A Perfect Metaphor
by FlamingMaple
Summary: When Edward left, it wounded Bella deeply, but it was Jacob's death that instigated what everyone believed to be a psychotic break. Why else would she say a vampire killed him? Ten years later, Bella's world has been fractured by her husband's death. Now she must grapple with the everyday difficulties of life and Edward's unexpected return. B x E. HEA.
1. Full disclosure

A/N for 2019-04-07: I owe a massive debt of gratitude to eeyorefan12 for their incredible editing and analytical skills. A truly amazing beta.

A word about trigger warnings: I have no idea what your individual 'triggers' are. Mine are firebells. Yeah. That's right. Seeing or hearing them. Long story. Anyway, I don't like posting trigger warnings as they are usually just poorly disguised plot-spoilers. If you're really concerned about something, feel free to PM me.

Finally, a request: please don't post plot-spoilers in the reviews. It really robs future readers of their enjoyment of the story.

~ Erin

* * *

Charlie, Phil and Renee had shooed her away to the kitchen, where a cup of steaming tea and some toast waited for her.

"You need to eat. Go, we've got this," her mother had said gently.

So she was sitting, staring at the enlargement of Matt's picture, which was leaning against the tall pantry cupboards. It was a shot from their honeymoon. She'd snapped it while they were lounging outside the small cabin they'd rented. He was smiling, hands folded behind his head, as he'd relaxed on the hammock.

They'd talked about their first date—and the many that had followed.

She blew out a wistful breath and ran a finger over the dates that sat beneath the photo: _March 6, 1986 - February 25, 2015._

She'd had him for just over six years. Six happy, normal years, full of ordinary problems, none of which required a return to the psychiatric ward.

Smiling, she recalled that first date when she had explained her own, unique history to him.

"_So, full disclosure," Bella started, sitting across from Matt, "I'm kinda screwed up."_

"_Oh?" he asked, cocking his head to the side._

"_Yeah. I had a psychotic break when I was eighteen. I spent six months in psychiatric care. I'm on serious meds, and I see a psychiatrist regularly to make sure I'm not going off the rails again, which is entirely possible."_

_Unlike the few other men she'd had first dates with, he leaned forward __and held her gaze__. "That sounds challenging."_

"_It was. It is."_

"_Are you telling me to see if I'll run away?"_

_She lifted her eyebrows at this. "Most men do."_

"_I'm not most men."_

_She chuckled._

"_Sorry." he murmured, "That sounded really arrogant. Actually, that was really arrogant." His face flushed a bit and Bella felt a pang of sympathy. She knew what it was like to have one's feelings be so painfully transparent._

"_It's okay. I'm assuming it came from a good place." She didn't, not really, but it was the polite thing to say. She was pretty sure he was moments from fabricating a reason for leaving._

_So his question surprised her._

"_Can I ask what happened?" Matt's voice was soft. Gentle._

"_Uh . . . sure." She tried to keep the little tremble from her voice. She hadn't been prepared to tell her story. It never got to that point. She struggled with the words for a moment. "My first boyfriend broke up with me and I became very depressed. I started hallucinating—seeing him. I missed him so much that I started to do things to trigger the hallucinations—dangerous things. Dirt bike riding..."_

_Matt frowned at this. "That's not dangerous."_

"_It is without helmets."_

"_Okay, yeah," he nodded, "definitely dangerous."_

"_Then I dove head-first off a cliff. I nearly drowned, and my best friend jumped in to save me." She had to pause before she could say the next words. "He died. His neck was broken." _

"_Oh," Matt breathed out._

"_Yeah," Bella said. She'd made her peace with her mental illness, but Jacob's death—that still haunted her. It should, she reminded herself. "That's when the psychotic break happened. I thought a vampire had killed him." She watched him absorb this and then added. "I also thought my friend had been a werewolf."_

_Matt didn't say anything for a bit, looking at her._

_She cleared her throat. "We're now well past the point when my dates usually make an excuse about a term paper they've forgotten and leave real quick-like."_

"_Sorry," Matt said, "do you want me to leave?"_

"_No . . . You seem really nice."_

_He did. Her roommate Mel had introduced them. Or rather, had insisted Bella go out with Matt when he asked._

"_I just—I figure people should know who I am. Fabulous paper writer, total klutz, and still technically psychotic."_

"_Well," Matt had said, sitting back, "you're right. Full disclosure is good. Want the big stuff, or the little things first?"_

"_Big," she said, wondering what flaws his kind face hid._

"_I'm loyal."_

"_That's a fault?"_

"_To be loyal to a fault? Yes. I have a hard time believing bad things about the people I care about, even when they show me I should probably believe differently."_

"_I get that," Bella said softly._

"_And I'm stubborn."_

"_Ditto."_

"_And I never pick up my clothes off the floor until it's laundry day."_

_Bella chuckled. She did the same thing. "And the small stuff?"_

"_Well, I play football—"_

"_Yeah, that is pretty terrible," Bella said, rolling her eyes but smiling._

"_And I cheat on the training diet all the time."_

"_Diets are pretty crappy." She knew this from having to adhere to one. The psychiatrist had wanted her off of almost all sugar. "How do you cheat?"_

"_Promise you won't make fun of me?"_

"_I solemnly swear." She put her hand to her heart._

_He leaned forward, and whispered, "Pop-tarts."_

_Bella snorted her drink out her nose._

The conversation and laughter had gone on from there and, when dinner was finished, they had skipped the movie they'd planned to see and went for a walk instead. A really long walk that took them past the frigid waterfront, and the darkened park, and into the quiet hours of morning.

They'd become inseparable soon afterwards.

Her sigh became more than her throat wanted to bear, and she made herself sit down and sip the tea Charlie had left her.

Her father's voice surprised her. "You actually going to eat something?"

"Yeah," she said, pulling the toast towards her.

"Hear it works if you actually put it in your mouth."

"Pearls of wisdom, Dad. Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, coming to sit down across the table from her. He ran his hand over the grain of the wood, frowning at the thinning varnish. "That needs refinishing," he mumbled.

"It's fine, Dad," Bella said, "and you don't need to worry about the house stuff."

Charlie's frown deepened as he looked around the unfinished kitchen.

"It'll get done eventually," she countered weakly. She'd be lucky if it happened at all. There had been a small life insurance policy, but she was determined to leave it untouched for Josh and Mer's education.

Charlie didn't argue, but swirled his fingers over the table. She knew it for his thinking gesture.

She ate and drank her tea, and his fingers kept working.

"You're still seeing your psychiatrist."

"Sure."

"Bella." His voice stepped over the syllables, rising to a warning.

"I haven't. Not lately."

"Now is not the time to experiment with your . . . endurance."

"I know," she gritted out.

"Do you?"

"Clearly you doubt that."

Charlie's posture sagged. "I can't see that again, what happened before, when you lost someone, Honey. You can't, not with Mer and Josh around."

"And I'm not going to."

"Okay. How're you going to make sure?"

She avoided his gaze, training her eyes on her half-eaten toast. "I'll see someone."

He let the smallest of sighs escape. "Good."

Where the sounds from upstairs had been muffled and dull, they were becoming sharp and high-pitched.

"Shirt!" Joshua's voice squealed and Bella stiffened.

"Just give her a minute," Charlie said, putting his hand on hers. "Let her figure out being a grandma."

Bella didn't relax, not so sure Renee's interpersonal skills were up for the challenge that Joshua presented.

"Yes, that's your shirt, honey, let's put it on," she heard her mother say.

"Shirt!" Joshua repeated. There was a quick set of thumps from what Bella assumed were his bouncing feet.

"Well, you need to let me put it on." Renee's voice came again, this time less patient.

Joshua's tone altered too, becoming more shrill. "SHIRT!"

Bella bolted for the stairs, but wasn't fast enough to prevent the coming tantrum.

Joshua's scream pierced the air and both Bella and her father flinched..

"I got it," Charlie grumbled, nudging past her. "Go finish your breakfast."

Bella stayed where she was, jaw clenched, waiting.

After a few tense minutes, Renee came down the stairs, followed by Charlie, a stiff and still-screaming Joshua slung over his shoulder.

"No, no, no, I got it," he said, waving Bella away. He marched to the front door, where the roar of traffic briefly dimmed the effect of her son's screams, as Charlie opened and then closed it behind him.

"I don't know how you do this, Honey," Renee said to Bella.

"Me either," she mumbled before turning to go to the bathroom. She was pretty sure her mother was still talking to her but she couldn't handle any more noise. Or really, any more of anything.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No Copyright infringement intended.


	2. I wish you were dead

Posted: 2019-04-9; Many, many thanks to eeyorefan12 for Beta-ing.

* * *

Bella heard the high-pitched, "Oh!" from the living room. She moved quickly, tripping over the circle of plastic horses set by the door.

"You're going to be really unhappy, Mommy."

This didn't hearten her. Her next step landed on a stray lego piece that had camouflaged itself into the woodwork.

"Fu . . . dge!" she muttered louder than she should have.

"Swearing!" Joshua piped up from the kitchen, his voice a perfect imitation of his father's.

"Mommy's going to swear lots at you, Joshua!" Meredith spat out.

She still had a few more steps to go but at this, Bella halted, stomach sinking. Had she been? Since . . . ?

Quite possibly, she realized.

_Ya think?_ her snarky alter-ego supplied.

All sorts of guilt squirmed in her gut, despite the deep breath she made herself take. Matt had always been so patient with the kids. So patient. The thought of tainting that legacy made her feel physically ill.

She was responsible for all of it now and the weight was palpable. She knew she was angry much of the time, but she thought she'd managed to keep most of it from them.

"That was BAD Joshua, BAD!" Meredith's voice rose with each word, becoming shriller and shriller.

"Don't throw more crap on the fan," Bella mumbled to herself, then walked into the kitchen.

"See?" Meredith accused, pointing to where her younger brother Joshua sat. His usually-cherubic face was squashed into a resentful frown, little eyebrows pulled together.

Following the line of Meredith's finger, Bella caught sight of an overturned but, thankfully, unbroken vase, its spilled water spreading out in a wet and widening circle over the table cloth. The shredded remains of tulips were scattered over the kitchen table and floor.

"Oh," Bella said, feeling a wave of relief.

She'd imagined much worse, because Joshua had a penchant for producing much more dramatic results. She clamped down on the memories that threatened beneath the surface. All of them involved Matthew. He'd always been able to muster a laugh at Josh's adventures, then help Bella see the humour in them, even when all she wanted to do was cry.

At that particular moment, she really just wanted to cry. And not because the flowers were gone.

"He broke your special flowers! He's awful, and I wish he was dead instead of daddy!" Meredith shrieked.

Bella winced at the words, watching the flicker of pain on Joshua's face. She'd had some ugly bargains drift through her mind in the weeks since Matt's death. What she wouldn't give to have him back. In the more difficult moments of parenting grief-stricken children there had been some fleeting but brutal exchanges she'd been briefly willing to make with God. But only briefly.

Blowing out a large breath, she made herself move to the far edge of the table, sitting in the chair between them. "That's not okay to say, Mer," she began softly. "I know you love Josh, just like me." She looked towards the wrecked tulips. "They're just flowers, sweetheart. We can buy more."

"But they were special flowers," her daughter said, voice trembling. "They weren't death flowers." Tears were forming in her eyes.

They had bought the flowers earlier in the day. Tulips had long been Bella's favourite. Their promise of beauty, after a long winter in the ground, spoke powerfully to her. She'd refused all flowers after Matthew died. Charlie and Renee had disapproved, but she'd told them to stuff the notion and let her have at least flowers free of grief. Death could take all sorts of stuff, but she got to keep flowers as a happiness. The indulgent purchase had been an opportunity to lose herself momentarily in the bright red colour, with the hints of pinks and yellows inside an anticipated treasure.

On her other side, Bella could hear Joshua beginning to snuffle too.

Shit.

_Shit._

Then he began to wail, head tipped back, voice rising.

Meredith clapped her hands over her ears and ran from the room. The thumping on the stairs meant she'd sought refuge in her bedroom.

Bella wished she could follow, but instead moved towards her son. "You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong. Mer was just upset. She didn't mean any of that. We all feel sad about—"

But she didn't get to finish.

Joshua's hands were pulling his hair and his whistle-like scream filled the room, making Bella's ears ring and her face twist up in pain.

The cat, who was eating from her bowl in the corner, scrambled away from her dish in a well-rehearsed move. The sudden motion distracted Bella from Joshua's grab for the vase. His throw held surprising force for an almost two-year old. The glassy crash sounded quiet next to his screams.

When he tried to get up, Bella put an arm around him, afraid he would injure himself on the glass. This sparked a fury of kicks and punches from his little body. She switched tactics and scooped him up from the chair, holding his back to her chest. His head thwacked back painfully into her jaw.

Her self-control fled.

"NO!" she bellowed, pushing him down to the floor. "YOU DO NOT HURT ME! YOU DON'T HURT YOURSELF! AND YOU DON'T HURT MEREDITH!"

Her voice briefly eclipsed his shriek, stunning him into silence.

The reprieve was fleeting. Bella's mortification over her behaviour, and then the fear for what was coming shoved it away.

The wail began again, rising like a siren, approaching full volume once more.

He fought less when she held him, still tight against her chest, but this time it was with her own tears wetting her face. Not trusting him enough to loosen her grip, she let her nose drip along with her eyes.

"Sorry," she whispered into his hot scalp. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Mommy shouldn't have lost it."

Joshua's thrashing continued and Bella held tight.

After half an hour, his voice had become hoarse and broken with sobs. "Go!" he would cry every few minutes.

"I need you calm first, buddy."

"NO!" He pushed out. "GO!"

Her arms ached and she wanted nothing more than to let him go, and then curl up and cry.

But she didn't.

During his last meltdown, she had taken him at his squeaked, monosyllabic promises, then watched in horror as he launched himself at Meredith, landing a solid four bruising punches before Bella could pull him off of her. Then he'd bolted for the knives.

She kept those high up in the cupboards now.

Things hadn't been this bad when Matthew had been there, but since his death any change to routine had become a nightmare to navigate with her youngest.

She tightened her arms and whispered, "I love you," into his sweaty head.

Glancing at the clock, Bella sighed. It was five-thirty—close to dinner time, and Meredith would come down soon looking for food, despite the fracas Joshua was making.

Calculating what leftovers were available, Bella tried to figure out what Mer could actually get out of the fridge herself.

At six o'clock, Joshua was still struggling in her arms, which were beginning to weaken from the prolonged hold.

"I need you to be safe, Josh," she tried, murmuring in his ear, moving back quickly when he tried to hit her again with the back of his skull.

A flicker of movement by the door caught her attention.

"It's okay, sweetie, you can come in, just stay away from the broken glass."

Meredith entered slowly, watching Joshua like prey would watch a predator.

"You're safe," Bella said to her. "Can you find a snack in the fridge?"

"NO!" Joshua shrieked.

"Yes, snack in the fridge for Meredith," Bella replied, needing him to accept something, even if it came under duress.

She hated this, the physical restraint she had to use with him. Matthew had rarely had to resort to such measures, usually being able to see the signs well before Bella could.

"No," Joshua complained in a high, croaking voice, looking at the fridge and frowning. Bella noted that his rage-fueled steam whistle had subsided a little.

"Okay, where should we get food from?" Bella tried, almost wincing in anticipation of the response.

"There," he said, looking to the cupboards.

"Do you want something from there?"

"Yellow. Yellow."

Bella dared to hope. If he was saying what he wanted, there was a chance of calming him down. "Can you get a yellow bowl, Mer?"

"NO! NO! NO!" His voice was a full siren again.

"No yellow bowl, okay," Bella hurried out. "Yellow what, Josh?"

"Yellow!" he cried. "What!"

"Oh, cereal!" Meredith said excitedly, and then ran towards the cupboards. Right through the broken glass.

Now Meredith's cries filled the room too.

Struggling to stand under Joshua's weight, Bella carried his kicking form towards Meredith, where she set him down on one side, locking her arm around his neck. After making sure his struggle wasn't because she was choking him, she turned her attention, and her right arm, to Meredith, who had fallen back on her bum and was trying to pull her socks off.

One foot was fine, just a few minor cuts, but the other had a deep puncture that oozed nauseatingly, something soft and white protruding through the flesh.

"Oh God, that's going to need stitches." Bella's nausea was tempered by the realization that they would need to get to the hospital. On a Sunday night.

They'd been there before but always as a whole family, as that's what it had taken to manage everyone.

Meredith whimpered. The last time they'd been there had been to reset her dislocated elbow.

"Josh, wanna go in the car?"

"NO!"

She hadn't thought so.

"Want a lollipop?"

She'd regret it later, but there was a chance it might distract him enough to get him to calm down a little. Maybe to get into the car. Maybe not.

"Lo-li-pop?" He choked out, between frantic breaths.

"Lollipop. In the car."

"Lollipop." he repeated, looking in the direction of the car.

Saying a quiet prayer, she released him. He stood. "Lollipop," he said more firmly, looking towards the door.

"Good job buddy. Go get your shoes and jacket on. Okay?"

He nodded, chest heaving with big breaths.

"Momma's just gonna clean up the glass and help Mer, okay?"

More nodding.

When everyone was safely buckled into their seats, Bella allowed herself a long, slow exhale, then started the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving as smoothly as she could towards the hospital.

\- 0 -

It was almost midnight by the time Bella pushed Meredith and Joshua out of the emergency room in one of their loaned wheelchairs. Meredith's rented crutches were tucked beside her in the chair, along with Joshua, who was calmer, but teetering on the dangerous edge of a toddler's exhaustion and overexcitement.

"Just a day being tired," Bella told herself. She'd accepted a substitute call for tomorrow and the kids would have to go to daycare on time or she'd be late. Again.

She kept up a steady stream of talk with the children on the way home, passing them chips from the bag she'd bought from the vending machine. It was crap for food, but it kept them awake. Transferring them from the car while they were sleeping had ended disastrously before and she didn't want to risk it alone.

But, by the time she pulled up to the house, she turned around to find their two small faces tilted innocently back in sleep.

Her groan was quiet, but profound. If she woke Meredith, she might be able to get her to walk into the house. Maybe. But if it woke Joshua—she shuddered, thinking of taking on a second melt-down. Her own sleep was so tantalizingly close, it was painful to consider what failure might mean.

She'd have to wake Meredith if she wanted a chance to get Josh inside. Very quietly, she unbuckled Meredith, gently rubbing her little flushed cheeks. "Shh," she whispered, smoothing away a small curl of hair.

"Tired," Meredith mumbled. "My feet hurt!" she whined on top of this.

"I know," Bella whispered back. "Let's get inside, and you can go to bed, okay? But you have to be very, very quiet."

Well-versed in the reasons why, Meredith nodded, whimpering only a little when she put her feet to the ground with her crutches.

Next, Bella began to undo Joshua's car seat clips. She felt like a member of the bomb squad, not sure what movement would spark detonation.

They were just steps from the back gate when Meredith's crutch lodged itself in a hole and she went stumbling forward, crying out in surprise.

Joshua startled in Bella's arms, catching her off balance. She struggled to keep herself upright and failed, using her arms to protect him as she fell. She took the full impact on her backside and hip, all the air pressed from her lungs. The fall stunned her momentarily and her arms slackened, letting a panicked Joshua spring free. He bolted. Right towards the busy road facing their house.

She didn't have time to scream or to tell him to stop. Struggling to get up, Bella didn't dare look or imagine the squealing tires, or Joshua's frozen form in the street, or the mortal impact her very bones anticipated—His body, hurtling back into her, made her fall backwards again.

She clutched at him, choking out a hoarse cry of relief. "You came back. You're alright."

"Scary," Joshua whispered.

"Yes, scary," she agreed, eyes still shut tight.

In the midst of her fear, she'd completely forgotten about Meredith, who had recovered herself enough to speak up.

"Mommy, who's that?" There was a note of apprehension in her voice.

"Who?" Bella asked, opening her eyes.

Her eyes met a pair of men's shoes, a few feet away on the sidewalk. A set of legs sprouted upwards from the shoes and as her gaze followed this trajectory, she found the rest of a body—and then a face.

Edward Cullen's face.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	3. Hallucinations

A/N for 2019/04/12: Several of you have asked if there's more to Josh than just a toddler working through their grief - yes, very much so.

Credits: This chapter was beta'd by the excellent eeyorefan12 and then fiddled with by me, so any errors are my own.

Your reactions, comments and questions delight me. Thank you for reading and responding.

Erin

* * *

Bella forgot everything—where she was, who she was with.

Not him, though. He was right in front of her—and she was back in the woods, the dark and the wet of the Pacific spring night enough to make the smell of the cedar fence like the logs she'd stumbled over all those years ago, when she'd tried to find him.

Then she did what she'd wanted to do for a very long time.

She punched Edward Cullen.

Or, she tried to.

He simply wasn't where she'd aimed her fist, leaving her roaring in frustration.

Then she froze and closed her eyes.

A ball of panic and bile rose in her throat. Were they back?—the hallucinations?

No, she told herself. No. And if they were, then that was normal. Jennifer had assured her of that after Matthew died. Seeing the dead.

Of course, it wouldn't make sense if Meredith was seeing them too.

She opened her eyes quickly. He was gone.

Had he been there at all?

Joshua and Meredith were staring at her.

"Hoo, hoo," Joshua said, throwing air punches. "Hoo, hoo!"

"Yeah," Bella whispered, watching him, stomach clenching with anxiety. "Let's get inside."

Either recovered from his near tantrum, or shaken by his mother's behaviour, Joshua complied, skipping ahead to the gate, trying to reach for the latch. It was high enough that he couldn't quite reach it, but would be able to soon. Matthew had been tall and Joshua was a small copy of him. Despite her hazy thoughts, she made a mental note to find a way to secure the fence, so Josh couldn't bolt again.

Inside, she sat the kids down at the table, warming milk in the microwave. She knew it was bad for their teeth so close to bedtime, but at this particular moment she didn't care. Her hands trembled, and she moved through the kitchen one careful plodding step at a time.

"You asked who that was," she said to Meredith. "Who did you mean, exactly?"

"The man," Meredith said. "The one who was there." She looked outside.

She thought carefully before she asked another question. "Where was he?"

Meredith's face squished together in confusion. "Well, he was by Joshua when he stopped him from running into the street."

Bella stared at her.

"Then he was by you."

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

No. It couldn't be.

She must've been imagining things, when she thought it was him.

_Be logical_, she chided herself. _You are not losing your mind again_. She reasoned that it was probably some stranger who looked like Edward and was no doubt freaked right the hell out by a crazy woman trying to punch him, right after he'd saved her son.

It was normal, she told herself, to see things. To imagine things, after experiencing a loss. That was all this was.

After putting the cups of warm milk in front of them, she rubbed her face. "Alright, finish up and let's get to bed, okay?"

She'd think more about this tomorrow when she had gotten some sleep.

If there was sleep, she corrected herself. Josh's sleeping habits had always been erratic, and they had become more so since Matt's death.

"I can be tired tomorrow and then just go to bed early," she mumbled to herself.

It took awhile to move the children towards their beds, and when they finally did settle into them, Bella found herself too wound up to be able to fall asleep herself.

She got up instead, walking quietly to the back deck. Matthew had insisted on adding it during the last round of renovations. It was an unnecessary expense in her mind, but he'd convinced her with kisses and promises of quiet dinners at the small table and chairs he had eventually set there.

Charlie had lifted his eyebrows when he'd seen it, warning Bella they would never use it. "No one ever does, with an upstairs deck."

Every time she did step outside now, she felt like she was thumbing her nose at him.

Right now, she just wished he was here. Or Matthew.

It'd been six weeks.

Charlie had come to stay for a few of them, returning reluctantly to Forks. Bella had insisted she'd be fine. It wasn't like he could come running north of the border to Vancouver every time she needed him.

She had doubted her father had believed her, but he'd gone anyway, reiterating his promise to return if she needed him.

Despite its relative newness, Vancouver was home now. The house and her employment made for strong ties. Breaking them would mean severing more bonds to her life with Matt, and it was far too soon for her to contemplate any sort of change. It felt like it was still too soon to do much more than breathe.

"Not much chance of that," she sighed.

Bella took another deep pull of night air. The rain had freshened the new fence's cedary scent. This mixed with the sweetness of cherry blossoms and the more fetid odours of the week's trash, awaiting tomorrow's collection.

"I am alive," she made herself say out loud, pulling forth the affirming lines she'd assembled so long ago. "I have friends and a family—" her voice broke over this last word. She made herself repeat it more firmly. "I am loved. I deserve to be loved. I do not need the ghosts of hope or hopeless ghosts."

She chuckled humorlessly at the ridiculous and dramatic last line. Sighing again, she muttered an admonishment to herself. "Be kind to yourself—even your more stupid, younger self."

Her small litany said, she turned and went back to her bed, where something like sleep finally claimed her.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	4. Snow!

A/N for 2018-04-14: Beta'd by Eeyorefan12, and then tinkered with by me, so all errors are my own.

~ Erin

* * *

"Snow!" Joshua said, repeating this word as he bounced towards the car with his mother.

"Yes, snow," Bella said, smiling at him.

He flapped his arms, jumping up on his toes. "SNOW!"

"Yep, snow," Bella mumbled, biting her lip as she fussed with the car seat buckles, getting them ready. "We can play in it when we get home, 'K?"

Josh bounced a little more, but climbed into his seat. "Snow!" he said, one more time, eyes big, smile wide.

Mer rolled her eyes and said, "We know, Josh. Snow. Got it."

Suppressing a chuckle, Bella got into the driver's seat, then turned the ignition over and pulled away from the curb.

"Are we having pizza tonight?" Meredith asked.

"I think we can. You wanna help me make the dough?" Bella asked.

Joshua interrupted this with an excited, "Pizza! Snow!"

"Yeah, dude, like all your dreams come true." She smiled, getting ready to round the corner up the small hill to the main street.

The snow was still coming down in large, fat flakes. Her students had been distracted by it all afternoon. She had just been glad she'd forgotten to get the snow tires taken off at the end of March. There was _never_ any snow this time of year.

Enough had accumulated over the last few hours to leave a thick layer of slush on the roads. Caught off guard by the abruptness of its arrival, most Vancouverites were unprepared, and her drive back from work had been long and harrowing. They were only a few minutes from home and she was looking forward to parking and not having to drive anywhere else for the remainder of the day.

Testing her traction on the slope, Bella shifted into four-wheel -drive and was satisfied that she could safely make it to the top.

They were halfway up when a beige sedan nosed over the crest.

"Okay, still good," Bella muttered to herself. She was watching the other car carefully. Its driver seemed to be doing the same, because the other car's front wheels angled slightly, like they wanted to give Bella a bit more room.

She watched as the sedan slipped sideways, its front end angling directly towards her.

"Shit!" she said, turning the wheel hard to the right, trying to get out of its way. She knew, watching the angle and velocity of the other vehicle, that there was no way she could avoid a collision.

The silence was profound as Bella's sense of hearing abandoned her. Her mind only had room for the other car moving towards them in what had become the slowest of motions. Time distorted itself. The only thing that moved quickly were her ballooning feelings of horror and dread for her children's well-being. Meredith was buckled in right behind her!

Suddenly, she felt the car lurch, sliding impossibly to the right by another foot. At the same moment, she caught a reflection In the rearview mirror of a familiar face creased with worry.

Edward's face.

There was no time to ponder the fleeting and ghostly image before the impact's jarring crunch arrived. Momentarily stunned, Bella found herself waiting for the sound of Meredith's screams or cries of pain.

But there was nothing.

"Meredith! Josh!" she called, trying to turn herself around, wincing at the twinges in her neck and back.

"Car!" Joshua said.

"Mama?" Meredith called shakily. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you?" Bella's voice trembled.

"Yeah, but I think that car broke our car."

Shaking, Bella opened the driver's side door, looking back to see the crumpled section just behind where Meredith sat. She'd been inches from injury.

Bella wrenched open the rear door, kneeling in the snow, one arm around her daughter, the other reaching for Josh's wiggling foot. "You're okay," she whispered. "You're okay." She was on the verge of tears, trying to keep her face composed.

Meredith said nothing, putting her little arms around Bella's neck.

A man's voice reached her. "You alright?"

"Yes, we're fine, I think," Bella said, looking up to see him approaching. The tan sedan sat at the bottom of the hill, the driver's door open, blocking the upper part of the roundabout.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Something about the way he was looking at her made Bella uneasy.

"We need to exchange information," she said, trying to take control of what was happening. Her hand shook as she lifted it to sweep the hair from her face. "I just need to get my stuff."

"I'll get mine too," he said, turning to walk back to his car.

"Sure," Bella muttered. Fishing through the papers in the glove box, Bella found all the insurance for the last three years, but not for the current one. Digging deeper in the mess of papers, she finally located it, wedged between a brochure for a window company and a take-out menu for the local Vietnamese restaurant.

Then the passenger door opened and the other driver climbed in.

Bella blinked, not quite sure how to handle this invasion.

"Um—"

"Thought you'd rather do this here, so you can stay with your kids?" he offered. "Unless you want to stand in the snow?"

This made sense, even to her racing mind. Her next breath brought with it the irksome scent of stale cigarettes. A wave of nausea washed over her.

"Just shock," she murmured to herself.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered. She knew better than to say she was talking to herself.

He handed over his license and registration and she passed him hers.

He began writing, making easy notes. Bella stared at the papers in front of her.

She could read them, and she understood she needed to write things down, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what she was supposed to write or how to organize it.

"Maybe this will help?" the man said, handing her a small card. It had the name of the insurance company at the top, with a preset list of all the information she'd need to collect.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking it and beginning to fill it out.

At the bottom was a section asking for a brief description of what had happened. She stared at it, trying to put in words what had transpired. There was no issue recalling the events, but language evaded her.

"You hit my car pretty hard," the man said.

She whipped her head up and to look at him, grimacing with the pain that accompanied the motion. What the hell? He'd hit _her_.

"Pardon?" she asked instead.

"I said, you hit my car pretty hard. The front end is completely smashed in."

Drilled into her, from even before she began driving, was her father's injunction to never, ever, _ever _discuss fault at the scene of an accident. This, however, was a matter of fact. "I didn't hit you. You hit me, coming down that hill."

He made a derisive sound in his throat. "You sure you're okay? You didn't hit your head or something, did you?"

If there was anything that could trigger her anger and indignation, it was the suggestion that she wasn't thinking straight.

"I know exactly what I saw, mister," she spat, "and unless you're interested in going to jail for insurance fraud, you'd better get your damn story straight. I'm going to go check your tires and take pictures and I won't be at all surprised if you don't have snow tires. I do."

She opened the driver's side door and then, remembering her children, said, "Stay here. I'm going to go check on this man's car. And you, get out." She tossed his papers and license onto his lap.

He didn't say anything as he left her car, but then he pulled out a cigarette and began to light it.

"NOT NEAR MY KIDS!" she yelled, making him jump. He took several steps away from her car.

Sure enough, his tires were all-seasons. He had been an idiot trying to take the hill. She shook her head on the way back up, only pausing to snap, "You'll be hearing from the insurance company," before she got back into her own vehicle.

Her bravado spent, she paused before turning the ignition over. Then she let the engine run, trying to assure herself that seeing the ghost of Edward Cullen meant nothing at all. Her efforts were pointless. Instead of reassurance, she felt a frisson of fear and apprehension, and then one of exasperation too, for whatever else life was going to throw her way.


	5. A Perfect Metaphor

Posted: 2019-04-20; Beta'd by the amazing Eeyorefan12.

~ Erin

* * *

"I know," Bella snapped. "It's the 'perfect metaphor'." She curled her fingers into air quotes as she spoke. When she looked up at her psychiatrist, Jennifer, she had to give the woman credit for not smirking. She'd be tempted to, listening to someone grumble like she was.

Instead, Jennifer smiled gently. "You say it like someone who isn't convinced."

Bella sighed, feeling frustrated. "No, it works. I get it. Just—"

"Just what?"

Her eyebrows pinched together. "It feels so real."

"Delusions usually do."

Bella sat staring at the beige carpet beneath her feet. It was unhelpfully devoid of any distracting patterns. The whole office seemed to be designed upon such principles.

"Can we talk about them a bit?" Jennifer prodded gently.

"I'm sure _you'd_ like to," Bella said.

Matt would have said she was grouchy.

This was old ground, covered and covered again until the initial footprints had been ground into obscurity. The psychiatrists in Port Angeles had established the theory and every psychiatrist since had adopted it as well.

Because it made sense, Bella reminded herself.

Jennifer's face remained impassive. "I can remind you of the general theory, yes."

Bella let out a long breath and nodded. May as well let the woman fill the space with it.

"When your first boyfriend, Edward, broke off your relationship and moved away, you said he was a vampire, a creature that literally sucks the life out of you. His leaving precipitated a profound depression for you. To counteract this, you formed a friendship with the mortal enemy of the vampire—a werewolf. He died trying to save you from another vampire, who was herself motivated by vengeance on your former boyfriend. Her attention meant that Edward still had feelings for you. You claimed your friend Jacob, the werewolf, was killed trying to save you from this hostile vampire's attack."

"Victoria." Bella said.

"The one you imagined at the cliff." Jennifer's eyebrows rose meaningfully.

"Yes."

"You tried to summon the vision of your ex-boyfriend, by trying to kill yourself—"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," Bella said, voice deep, and insistent. "I was just being incredibly stupid."

Jennifer shifted in her seat, scribbling a quick note. "It doesn't help you, to play into the delusion, Bella."

Bella looked down, finally huffing out a semi-convincing, "Sure."

"Blaming this figment of your imagination allowed you to evade the guilt you felt for Jacob's death." She paused for a moment, as if considering something. "I don't think I've said so before, but It is a very elegant metaphor, Bella. It speaks to the creative powers of your mind. Certainly to your literary interests."

"Thanks," Bella mumbled, cocking an eyebrow. She could have sworn Jennifer was suppressing a chuckle. They were both fans of the romantics. She didn't doubt Jennifer did appreciate her delusional inventiveness.

"And it fits with the trauma you've experienced. You shouldn't be feeling guilty about seeing these things again. They're your mind's way of warning when things are becoming too much. As far as manifestations go, it's gentle. Seeing faces is far better than the violent and psychotic episodes I've seen other patients struggle with."

"I'll try to remember that," Bella said dryly, next time I see any vampires, she thought. Her snort punctuated this silent utterance.

Setting her paper aside, Jennifer put her hands together on her lap. "Rejection hurts, even long after the fact. That you picture him still as a vampire means that hurt remains real. It also says many good things about your friendship with Jacob, to portray him as a werewolf—a creature that protected you."

Bella nodded. Jacob had been a good friend. She had yet to remember him without that familiar stab of guilt.

"You've made phenomenal progress, moving on in your life. Being well for so long, psychologically. I think you're well aware that there will be setbacks and things that trigger delusions. Now particularly. It's only been a few weeks since your husband died."

Bella listened to all this and nodded when Jennifer stopped talking. Now she wondered why her psychiatrist was still silent. Following Jennifer's gaze, Bella realized her own fingers were tracing the outline of the crescent-shaped scar on her wrist. She stopped abruptly, tucking her hands under her legs.

"Are you thinking of harming yourself again, Bella?"

"No." It was immediate, and insistent.

Jennifer's own hands moved smoothly to pick up her pen and paper. "But you're seeing Edward's face in those of strangers?"

"Yes."

"Have you thought about trying to summon that again?"

"No."

"Even in the car, when you had your accident?"

Bella's head whipped up. "No," she said, horrified. "I have children. I would _never_ put them in danger. Ever. Not to see bloody Edward Cullen, not even if it let me see Matt."

"Have you seen your husband, as you've seen Edward?

"No," she croaked through a tightened throat.

"It's very common to see the recently-deceased."

Bella managed to nod.

She wished she had seen Matt.

What she wouldn't give for that small comfort.

Jennifer wrote more notes, and Bella relaxed a little. Their session was almost up. That knowledge was a relief.

"You're doing really well, Bella. I hope you recognize this."

"I know." She did. Sort of.

She and the kids were existing. They got up, she went to work, and the kids went to daycare. She made meals and cleaned the house.

"One last thing: when was the last time you saw friends? Socially?"

Bella swore silently and offered what she hoped would be a passable evasion. "Couple of weeks ago."

"When exactly, and where?"

"The funeral."

There was active disapproval when Jennifer spoke next. "You know that's a trigger for you. Not seeing friends, being alone."

"It's been difficult—"

"It's integral to your well being, Bella. Your children need you to be well, so you can be well for them."

God, if the woman hadn't found the tap for the guilt faucet.

"I'll try to get out with a friend." Biting her lip, she kept to herself the fact that she really didn't have any. Not here. She hadn't for years. Matt had been it.

"Good. I expect to hear about it when you're back in two weeks."

Bella almost bit her tongue. They'd been holding steady at monthly appointments since she and Matt had moved north to Vancouver. It was easy to grumble about the inconvenience and cost, but the real reason for her frustration was a burning resentment of the control these psychiatrists had, and continued to have, over her life.

"Great," Bella said, making her unfelt smile stretch to a convincing width.

* * *

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	6. Man

Posted: 2019-04-20; Beta'd by: Eeyorefan12

* * *

The children were in bed. She was sitting on the deck, a cup of tepid tea in front of her. She knew she should be inside taking care of paperwork, or tidying up, or handling any one of the myriad things that needed doing when young children were involved. Or when your spouse died. The paperwork felt like a dedicated subculture of her life.

God, had she even fed the cat? Though chubby, black Bubbles was a fairly resilient creature, and not above pilfering the children's unattended waffles and cheerios, Bella liked to think she could keep the cat alive and healthy, even with Matt gone.

It was Matt who had insisted the kids have a pet. He'd had several in his younger years. She'd had none. A cat had felt like an easy compromise. He'd taken on the litter cleaning, and the kids were in charge of feeding their kitten—for all of the first week. Then that had passed to Bella.

As if Bubbles was sensing her thoughts, she caught a plaintiff "Mrrow," from inside the house.

"Hold on, fat cat. Give me a few minutes," she muttered. There was another protesting, feline sound. Bella wondered if Bubbles could hear the resentment in her voice—or understood her unflattering moniker. The cat was just another imposition on the limited hours and energy of the day.

She leaned forward, face in her hands.

She was still trying to shake the too-real feeling of seeing Edward Cullen's face.

While they'd each had their own unique quirks, every single one of her psychiatrists had been singular in their demand that she not encourage any aspect of these delusions, and warned her against straying even minutely into their territory, even if it felt benign. In particular, they ordered her not to speak about them outside of therapy.

At that moment though, exhaustion had a better grip on her mind than anything else. Her back and neck ached from the car accident and all she expected was to hear the night's noisy silence when she spoke: "Are you real, Edward? Or am I just going crazy again?"

His answer, and his visage, were synonymous—and instant.

"I'm real."

Bella jerked her head up, regretting the movement immediately, neck and back throbbing in protest.

She stood more slowly, listening to the audible scrape of her chair on the deck. That was real, she told herself. He can't be.

She was going insane.

"You _can't _be real," she whispered.

"I'm real, Bella." the vision said again.

She made herself look at him. Her eyes widened at the differences. He looked _older_. Part of it was clothes. His suit was a deep grey, his collared shirt open at the first button. Where she expected the disordered beauty of his hair, she was disappointed by a tidy shape. But it was his eyes that startled her most. They were nearly black, just speckled by the suggestion of amber near his pupils.

This vision was of her vampire Edward, not the real one she'd actually touched. If she was surprised by his aging, that meant she was still swimming in her delusions. This meant that things were far worse than she'd initially imagined.

"Oh God," she said to herself. She'd need to call Jennifer first thing tomorrow.

But first, she just wanted peace in this moment.

Stretching out her fingers, she knew she'd be met by nothing but the April night's air. Still, she pushed her hand forward, wanting to at least anticipate the smoothness of his skin, if not feel it.

But her hand didn't travel through him, as it had so many times before. His cheek was a solid and icy resistance. The sensation travelled up her arm in a series of sparks.

It felt so real. _He _felt real.

Yes, she was completely losing it.

Maybe the car accident had done more damage than she thought? Could a concussion complicate psychosis?

These thoughts danced in the background of her mind, barely registering in the forefront.

The rest of her simply didn't care.

She had a ghost at her disposal, and the very real feelings for its progenitor bubbled up and out of the place she had so carefully kept them.

"Edward," she whispered.

Then she took his face in both hands . . . and kissed him.

Her flesh remembered him, lips curving to match his, breath short, lungs struggling for air while the rest of her body betrayed its needs. As far as her skin knew, the air had stopped moving, and the world silenced itself, her fragile reality distilled to this one brittle encounter with a ghost.

And then he kissed her back.

She couldn't remember it feeling so good, not when it had been real, and not when it had been merely imagined.

It was that final tipping over into what felt like the unstoppable slide into insanity that made her pull away. She turned and bolted inside, running for her room and the locked cabinet where she kept her emergency medication.

Her hands shook with the keys on the dresser, and she hoped it didn't wake Josh, asleep in his playpen mere feet away.

The small vial of pills rattled in her hand. She struggled with the childproof lid.

"He's not real. It's not real," she told herself, voice shaking.

It was the cold hands, reaching in and taking the bottle away that made her start to hyperventilate.

"I'm real, Bella. You're not hallucinating. I was always real."

He was standing in her room.

She could feel his hands on hers.

He. Was. Not. Real.

She was staring and shaking still, when Joshua's high pitched voice squeaked, "Man!"

Jerking her head towards him, she took in Josh's small form, arm outstretched, pointing as he stood on his tippy-toes. "Man!" he said again.

She followed Josh's gaze back to Edward.

"I'm real. That's why he can see me."

She'd heard people talk about seeing red. She just hadn't experienced it yet.

He caught her fist well before it made contact with his face.

"You'll hurt yourself. Please don't," he whispered.

She choked out a sob.

Then he turned to face Joshua, taking a step in his direction.

"No!" she hissed, dodging in front of Edward, standing between the two of them. She might have fallen into the pit of insanity, but there was no way this apparition was taking Josh from her.

Edward stopped mid-step, moving his foot back again.

"Man!" Joshua said again, now hopping up and down in his playpen. "Up!" he added, arms raised towards Bella.

She picked him up, clutching his body fiercely.

"Yes, that was me," Edward said.

"What do you mean?" Bella demanded.

"He recognizes me, from when I stopped him from running into the street. I told him to go back to you."

Bella's knees were suddenly wobbly, and she sat on the bed, still holding Joshua. He quickly squiggled out of her arms, ignoring her panicked, "No!" as he moved towards Edward.

"I don't think your mom wants you near me right now," Edward said to Josh.

Josh stopped, looking back at Bella.

Her arms were open to him and trembling.

Joshua turned back to face Edward, walking quickly to him..

Bella felt frozen in place, heart pounding.

"Yes, I'm real," Edward said, as Josh reached out to touch his hand.

She wasn't sure if his words were for her or Joshua. It didn't really matter. Her delusions always felt real. But when she looked over into the playpen, it remained empty. She'd never had hallucinations of her children being, or not being there. Only of Edward.

Now her gaze snapped back to him.

"I can hear what you're thinking, but I can't hear what your mom is thinking. Yes. No. I don't know. No." The last word came with a chuckle.

Joshua's hand pulled back from Edward's. "Ice cream," his little voice concluded.

"No, not really," Edward said again, but with a grin. This slipped off his face as he looked back at Bella.

She didn't know what expression her face wore, but she couldn't imagine it was good, if it reflected the hollow shock she was feeling.

"Yes, I think you're right," Edward said.

Confusion was a poor word for what Bella felt, but out of its cloud a realization was rising. Joshua was communicating with Edward. He had thoughts. He had the capacity for more than one word at a time.

"You can hear him," she whispered to Edward.

"Yes."

"And he's asking you questions."

"Yes."

"Actual sentences, with words?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. It's different, with thoughts." Edward's face was strained, like he was trying to understand something.

Bella sobbed, giant lurching breaths and tears, reaching again for Joshua. "You can talk, in your head," she cried.

"Mama?" Joshua asked, looking and then moving towards her with concern. He almost always cried when she did. His wobbling voice told her he was close to it now.

"It's okay," she whispered to him, "I'm just really happy. It's okay."

He leaned against her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she held him.

Despite all the startling revelations the night had presented to her, Bella was also preoccupied with several very practical considerations. First and foremost, was getting Joshua to go back to sleep. His pattern for night-time wakings was not a good one, and she knew there was the possibility of a full-on meltdown, if she told him he needed to go back to bed. Praying silently and fervently, she gave a quiet, "Time to sleep little man," barely daring to open her eyes.

Hearing his little yawn made her release a pent-up breath. When she moved him back into the playpen, his only protest was a weak and whispered, "Man."

"Yes, man." She looked back. Edward was still standing there. "Mommy needs to go talk to the man," she breathed into his little ear.

"Mama," Joshua mumbled, eyes already closing. He wrapped his arms around his stuffed pig, sighed, and then snuggled under his blanket.

"Downstairs," Bella gritted out, standing up. When she turned around, Edward was at the far end of the hall, already turning to walk down the stairs.

She followed slowly, first going outside to pick up her cup of cold tea.

Marching down the stairs, she found Edward standing in the kitchen.

Edward Cullen was in her kitchen.

The realization was jarring.

She had believed herself mentally unstable for so long that the evidence to the contrary grated against all the constructs under which she'd been operating..

Vampires simply weren't real.

She threw her cup at him.

The tea sloshed out on its way, but he caught the mug, setting it down on the table, all this with a raised eyebrow.

Vampires weren't real.

She picked up a book next. Then a crumb-covered plastic plate.

He caught all of these things, even the wooden frog Meredith had left behind on the table.

Out of physical things to hurl, she contemplated words.

Setting the frog beside the cup, Edward spoke first. "You've got every right to be angry with me, if that's what this is. I've broken my promise to you by coming back. But if you're trying to see if I'm real, there are probably less messy ways." He spoke evenly. Calmly.

It was infuriating.

"Go to Hell, Edward!"

He didn't say anything.

"Did you know?" she finally made herself ask.

"Did I know what?" he asked, still calm.

"What you leaving has put me through? That I thought I'd had a psychotic break? That everyone thought I'd gone completely crazy?"

"Yes."

Then she realized it wasn't calm that he was exuding;—it was guilt.

Good, she thought. Then she thought a lot of really bad words in his direction.

"Why are you here?" she asked. Her cheeks flamed, as she recalled her initial response to what she'd imagined was only a delusion.

"To protect you."

Protect her? From her own, misguided beliefs about her well-being?

She laughed then, a bitter and harsh bark of amusement that sounded a bit hysterical even to her own ears. "Protect me? From what? How fucked up you've left me? Great, thanks."

His face was as stiff as his response. "From Victoria."

Her mocking amusement vanished instantly. She acted on her sudden need to sit down.

If Edward was real, then chances were Victoria was too. And Jacob, and the wolves, and—

There were waves of horror, then relief, and then the most acute—and painful ones of betrayal.

The Cullens had left her. Really left her with the threat of Victoria hanging over her. And the wolves had been caught up in it. Jacob had _died_ because of it. Jacob had died because of her. Then the wolves had left her too, dropped her like the loose end she was.

She had betrayed them all, a little voice reminded her. She had told people what they were. She _had_ lost it. Still, this key realization was swallowed up by the fear and anger swirling around her.

But Victoria—she'd been left horrifically wounded. Bella recalled again what she'd long thought was a dream: the sickening sound of Jacob's neck, snapping, then the shrieking sound of tearing steel, a chunk of Victoria's neck bitten off by Sam.

"Jacob," she choked out.

"I'm so sorry, Bella."

"You're sorry? You think _sorry_ covers this? You left! You left me to deal with Victoria. Jacob is _dead_ because of you. How could you _do_ that?" Her voice had risen with each word and, by the end, left her throat tight with fury. Her fisted hands trembled on the table.

Edward sat down. He made no noise doing so, lifting the chair to move it so he could sit. His movements were impossibly smooth.

Humans didn't move that way.

Humans weren't icy cold.

They couldn't catch things out of the air at lightning speed as he had.

Vampires were real. Werewolves were real.

She wasn't insane.

And she was the only one who would ever believe that.

However, the part of her mind that was busy with these realizations wasn't talking to the part that remembered all the things she knew about vampires, so when she saw Edward's eyes close momentarily, she repeated the gesture that had been foiled earlier, upstairs.

Her mind _did_ register the sound of human bone breaking, and told her that it sounded just the same as a werewolf one, snapping.

"Bella!" Edward gasped.

At least, she thought he did. The fire spreading out from her hand took all of her attention. Her mouth was opening and closing, gasps of pain the only sounds she could make.

Edward was up, rummaging through her freezer, returning with an ice pack and a tea towel.

"Let me see, please," he said.

When the initial agony faded somewhat, she fixed him with an angry stare.

"Please," he said again, "I think you've broken something."

"What, have you added doctor to your list of phony credentials now, too?" she spat out. "Make sure you can have me committed if I talk again?"

A pain-filled expression flickered across his face. "I _am_ a doctor, but I would never do that to you, Bella. Ever."

"I don't want your help."

"I heard bones breaking. I'm pretty sure you're going to need your right hand, or your children will need you to have it working again someday."

Her logical side was trying to figure out exactly what she would do. Wake up the kids? Take them to the hospital with only one working hand?

She had acquaintances, but no one close enough to call for that kind of help.

"Are you really a doctor?"

"Yes."

"Since when?" It didn't really matter, she knew, from what she recalled of vampire minds.

"Since I thought Victoria was dead," he said, reaching out to pull her arm towards him.

"And how did you learn she wasn't?"

He was moving her arm, gently probing at her fingers, causing only the slightest discomfort. He paused when she hissed at the sensation his touch produced.

"Alice," he said without further explanation, again assessing her fingers with his minute movements.

"Alice what?" she snapped.

"Alice saw her, along with a brief glimpse of her plans."

"Which are?"

Edward seemed to swallow, then shook his head.

"What are they, Edward?"

"I didn't come to terrify you, Bella, and I wouldn't have revealed myself if I'd known it would . . . distress you so much."

She snorted in disbelief.

"I didn't want you to think you were insane."

"Great. Good job. You're about nine years too late. What are Victoria's plans?"

This time, he didn't bother with any preamble. "To kill your children and then to kill you. Or, to turn you, and then let you kill your own children."

As Edward helped her clean up herself, the table, and then the floor, she noted, in some very detached part of her mind that she'd splattered him with tea, crumbs, and now vomit. She wondered if dry-cleaning would remove it all from his suit.

No, she decided, he'd probably just throw it out.

Like he'd discarded her all those years ago.

"Why do you even care?" she asked.

He had washed his hands and come back to the table, now setting her hand back on the ice pack.

"This needs to be set and casted," he murmured, lifting his chin towards her hand, evading her question. Pulling out a phone from his pocket, he punched in a number, putting the phone to his ear. His call was short, involving the ordering of supplies and the giving of her address.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"The local pharmacy. They deliver. I don't think you have what I need to treat you here."

She was relieved. She'd half wondered if another of the Cullens was about to arrive. He was as much as she could tolerate at the moment, and tolerance was a generous word for it.

"Why do you care about what happens to me or my children?"

She couldn't place the look in his eyes as he stared at her, but after a bit he spoke. "I promised you a normal life. I wanted you to have an ordinary one and to be free of my world. I will keep that promise."

"Were you planning on letting me know you were here?"

His, "No," was immediate. "I didn't anticipate needing to intervene quite so much."

"No one asked you to."

His stare was incredulous. "You'd prefer I left your son to run into traffic? Or have your daughter crippled in a car crash? Let you keep thinking you were insane?"

"Bad things happen to people, Edward. It isn't like we haven't experienced that already." Her voice shook with grief. "You didn't save Matt," she whispered.

The stricken look returned to his face. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I would have, if I'd been there."

"But you weren't. And you won't be. So why bother now? We all die. It's what humans do."

Edward paused, staring at her hand before answering. "Are you asking me to let bad things happen to you, when I could easily prevent them?"

"I won't bother. I know you won't respect it. I'm just not sure what the point is. You're here to deal with Victoria. Deal with her. Then leave me alone."

He raised his head to look at her, his face composed again. "We'll need your cooperation, to keep you safe."

We, she thought. _They_ were here. The Cullens. The pain of their rejection, even ten years later, was freshened. "Fine," she said. She could pretend it didn't matter.

"We'll stay out of sight, but if you see us, please cooperate with our requests."

Nodding, she watched him stiffen slightly, and then stand. "Delivery's here," he said, and moved to the front door.

She watched him go, mind whirling, still trying to grapple with what hadn't been real just hours ago, and the very different reality the world presented her with now.

* * *

A/N: I'm DYING to hear your thoughts on this! ~ Erin

* * *

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	7. Woman

A/N for 2019/04/24: As always, many thanks to the stellar Eeyorefan12 who has beta'd this chapter and the many more that are written. If there are errors, they are my own.

Happy reading,

Erin

* * *

Bella watched Edward work over her hand, both resentful and admiring of his skill. She'd had many casts before and knew the difference between a good one and a bad one. This was a good one.

"It's waterproof," Edward said. "But not for a few hours. Is there anything you need help with, before then?"

She gritted her teeth. She wanted to say no, but there were many, many things that needed doing before bed. The morning would be unforgiving if they weren't accomplished now.

"The cat needs feeding," she said, "and I should get the kids' lunches ready." There was laundry, too, and the litter to clean, and the compost and garbage to be taken out for tomorrow's collection.

"Where's the cat food?" Edward asked.

Bella sat while he got up and followed her directions.

The surreality of Edward Cullen, now divested of his jacket, assembling Joshua and Meredith's lunches, made Bella blink. Repeatedly.

When he'd finished, he stored them in the fridge, closing and then staring at the door. Beside the take-out menus and the garbage collection schedule was one of the small memorial cards with Matt's picture on it. Mer had decorated the border with stars. "Where are you working tomorrow?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," Bella said, wondering just how much he knew about her life. "They usually call by around 5:30."

"It's going to take you a few days before you're able to drive."

Bella closed her eyes, realizing what he was suggesting. "No," she said.

Edward stood, hands on the island, looking down. "I will keep you safe, Bella, from forces natural, and supernatural. I'd prefer not to have to contend with your stubbornness too, but I will. It would be better if I drew less, rather than more attention, in making sure you and your children can live your normal lives."

Her angry defenses flared, but the truth in what he had said stung beneath them all.

"The buses are good here. We'll be fine."

"It would take you forty-five minutes to get the children to daycare on the bus."

His knowledge—and it was correct—irked her. She clenched her good hand.

"And then it would take you about an hour to get to the furthest school in your district. That's if it doesn't snow again and you don't slip and fall."

"You are not part of my life, Edward. You're here to clean up the mess you left. Go deal with _that_, and leave me alone to deal with my life."

She didn't need his pity, and wanted his help even less. The assistance he'd already provided grated at her dignity.

"You have a broken hand because of me. I'll stay out of your way, but I'll make sure you're not hindered." Picking up his suit jacket, he put it on. "Your cast will be waterproof in an hour. You should follow up with your doctor about it. Take Tylenol—but not ibuprofen for the pain."

She gave him one begrudging nod to acknowledge his instructions and watched him walk out of her house.

Then, overwhelmed, she let the dam of pent-up emotion break, and the tears and sobs pour out of her.

\- 0 -

She woke before the alarm and, unusually, before Joshua, blinking at the ceiling. She was just about to consider the realistic but bizarre dream she'd had when she went to move her hand—and flinched at the pain.

Right. Not a dream.

You're not insane, she told herself.

Her stirrings in the bed were matched by those of Josh in his playpen.

"Mama!" he said, hopping up like a jack-in-the-box. "Man!"

She was about to answer when her phone rang. It was the school board, calling with her teaching assignment for the day. She was writing down the details, her left hand making an awkward scrawl, when she heard the doorbell ring.

Crap.

"Just a minute!" she called, knowing it was pointless. Whoever was at the door wouldn't be able to hear her from upstairs. "Coming!" she tried again, louder.

"Who's that?" Meredith called sleepily from her room.

Joshua trailed after Bella as she moved quickly down the stairs.

Wrenching open the door, Bella realized belatedly that she was still in her pajamas.

A woman stood there, looking far too tidy and well-presented for the early hour.

"Good morning. Ms. Hamilton? I'm Marsha Gibbons. The on-call service sent me." She held out a paper and a lanyard with a piece of ID attached to it.

"The what?" Bella asked, glancing at the piece of plastic. It looked real.

"The on-call service," she repeated. "I'm a home support worker." She looked down at the card in her hand. "I believe a . . . Dr. Cullen put in the call?"

Bella blinked, then felt the heat swimming in her cheeks. The interfering, arrogant—

"Woman!" Josh said, pointing.

"Yes, sweetie. She's a woman."

"What would you like me to start with?" Marsha asked, stepping inside, and closing the door behind her.

"Breakfast!" Joshua answered, tugging on Bella's good hand.

"I can do that," Marsha said. "Who are you?" she asked Joshua, smiling widely.

Joshua blinked, looked at Bella, and then ran back to the other end of the house.

"Um, he's not good with strangers," Bella said, feeling the familiar discomfort with her son's odd interactions with others. "His name's Joshua. Josh for short. I'll get him breakfast."

Marsha nodded. "Is there anything you'd like me to take care of? I'm used to handling everything: laundry, cleaning, shopping, driving, tidying. You name it, I do it."

Bella stomped down on the teary relief that wanted to play on her face. She could barely speak. The thought of help—actual help—was overwhelming.

"Oh crud, the garbage and everything needs to go out!" She glanced at her watch. They were past the collection time start.

"No problem. Point the way."

Bella did, and Marsha moved quickly off to gather everything. The sound of the carts rumbling out to the alley actually made her shoulders slump a little. She'd missed the last collection, and the bins were full and beginning to stink.

Bella found Joshua in the kitchen, sitting at the table, a mountain of cereal spilling out of the bowl in front of him and a pool of milk spreading around it.

"Breakfast!" he squeaked through his smile, tucking into his bowl with a large serving spoon.

Normally, this kind of mess would've triggered all sorts of frustrated thoughts and words for Bella, but not today. She had help.

"Good job. You got it yourself!"

"Self!" he said, smiling, wiggling in his seat.

"Maybe next time, put a little bit less in, okay?"

"Self!" Josh reiterated, still smiling.

Bella got herself breakfast and pulled out a bowl for Meredith. Then she sat down and smiled at Josh. He smiled back.

Her son was tentatively fingering Bella's cast when his older sister walked in. Bella watched her daughter's attention follow Joshua's.

"Mama, what happened to your hand?"

"Oh, I had an accident." She shrugged.

"And you put a bandage on it?"

"No, a—" she was about to say friend. "A doctor came and put a cast on it."

"A doctor came to our house?"

"Yes," she said, uncomfortable with the direction of Meredith's questioning. She didn't want to lie. Edward was a doctor. Or, he claimed to be one.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It was after your bedtime. Besides, I didn't think you'd want me to wake you up."

Meredith thought about this for a bit. "Why couldn't a doctor take care of me here, then? When I hurt my foot?"

Bella swore silently. Joshua wouldn't talk about Edward, not in a way anyone would ever recognize, but Meredith might. She didn't explore too carefully the implications of Edward's return. She didn't have the energy or nerves for it at that moment.

"Let's get you some breakfast."

"But—"

"Maybe some special cereal today?"

"But it isn't the weekend!" Mer sounded positively scandalized. And very effectively distracted from the topic she'd been pursuing.

"Why not?" She moved to the cabinet, pulling down what Matt had referred to as, "Daddy's special Cheerios." She couldn't stand the multi-coloured sugary cereal, but they were an indulgence the rest of her family enjoyed.

Joshua clamoured for them too, and as she settled them back down with their bowls, she explained Marsha's presence in the house, too.

Marsha had appeared and was busying herself with emptying the dishwasher, tidying up the counters, and doing all the things Bella wished she had time for.

"Dr. Cullen mentioned you'd need some help with driving?"

"Who's Dr. Cullen?" Mer asked.

Bella ignored her question.

"Yes, I suspect I will."

Meredith continued to chirp her question.

"Why don't you get dressed?" Bella redirected her.

The rest of their brief morning routine sped along. Seemingly stunned by Marsha's presence, Joshua went into the daycare without any of his usual fuss, Meredith following along, oblivious to the difference.

Marsha dropped Bella at the school she was assigned to for the day, just a few minutes shy of the bell.

Bella ran in, gathering a map and keys from the office. Inside the classroom she found a neatly typed set of plans for the day, with handouts and books lined up for student use. Thank God. She'd only been at this school a few times before, and the teachers she'd subbed for had left each class with a 'work period', which in Bella's eyes, was the equivalent to the third circle of hell.

Students were already starting to filter in, and Bella glanced up at the several groups as they seated themselves, smiling at them. Few returned the expression, and several boys were less than quiet with their guffaws and varying utterances of, "Awesome, sub!"

One such creature loped to the front row of seats, slumped into a chair, and then put his feet up on the desk. "Chang's out, huh? Did we scare her away?"

Bella ignored him, continuing to scan the lesson plan.

As expected, the students around him snickered, and he eventually put his feet down.

When the bell rang, Bella counted almost a full roster and read through the attendance.

She made special note of Mr. Feet-on-the-desk when he answered.

It was a grade twelve class, and they'd been left a challenging poem to work through. She wasn't familiar with the poet, who was local, as was his content matter.

The students were slogging through the stanzas in small groups, heads down, while Bella circulated, still trying to wrangle her own way around the tangly metaphors.

It was the middle of the poem that struck her, its words lodging themselves in her chest, tightening around her lungs: "wards of eternity, each pair alone. / They . . . pass through successive names, are newly wed / participants in some recurring dream."

Weren't they just, she thought.

And like an idiot, throat taut with feeling, the air not coming in right, she kept reading: "The sleeping bride / suffers too sudden freedom like a pain. / The dreaming bridegroom severed from her side / singles her out, the old wound aches again."

When the blackness ebbed and she opened her eyes, she couldn't quite place the sounds. Then their significance became clear: they were the utterances of panicked—or worse, overly excited adolescents.

It was an adult voice that reached her next, as she struggled to sit up.

"No, no, just stay put, please. They said you passed out?"

Bella blinked at this new face. A man's. He had reddish-blonde hair. Just like Matt's.

Something wet slid down the side of her head. She braced herself for the scent of her own blood and the inevitable vomiting that would follow. When it didn't manifest, she relaxed a little, tensing again when she realized she was crying.

"You've had quite a turn, hey?" the man went on, voice soft and gentle. "I'm Grant. The kids were a little rattled when you fainted."

"Thanks," Bella muttered, trying to gather her dignity and sit up.

"No, no, really. The first-aid attendant is coming. You shouldn't move yet. Let them do their work."

So Bella was fussed over for a second time in twenty-four hours.

"No way," the principal said, when Bella tried to say she was fine for the rest of the day. "You're not, and you need to go home. Maybe go see a doctor." Then he added, more gently, "I'll make sure you get paid for the day, okay?"

Bella blinked back the relieved tears, mouthing a quiet, "Thank you," to him.

She'd called Marsha, and told her of the change in plans. She was on her way to pick Bella up.

At home, Bella put herself back to bed, counting what felt like an ever-increasing accumulation of aches. On top of a throbbing hand, her back and neck complained, and now her head, which had a painful lump on the side she'd smacked on a desk, when she'd fainted.

When she woke up several hours later, it was to a clean house, with the mountain of laundry several loads smaller. Something with a seductive smell bubbled on the cooktop.

"Do your children like stew?"

"Probably not," Bella answered. "But I love real food. That smells amazing."

"Good, it's for you."

"You don't have to—"

"It's my job to support you. Making lunch falls into that category."

Bella was several spoonfuls into this culinary piece of heaven when her phone rang. Charlie's name blinked on the display.

"Hi, Dad," she answered, reluctantly putting down the spoon.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied.

He snorted into the receiver. "Sure. I'm an hour away. You need anything from the store?"

"Wait, what?"

"The school called this morning. They said you passed out. I'm on my way. Do you need anything from the store?"

Bella's face squished up in frustration. Charlie was the last thing she needed right now. She'd successfully suppressed the knowledge that Edward had shared last night, but now it came swimming up again. Victoria. She was after her. Her children. Did that include Charlie, too?

"Dad, I was just tired and hungry. It was nothing. Why did they call you?"

"I'm your next of kin, Bella. Your emergency contact."

"Right," she whispered. There was a fresh pang of grief at this realization. Of course he was now.

"Do you need anything? From the store?" Charlie asked again.

"Um," Bella said, trying to think remember exactly what they had on hand. Matt had taken care of most of the cooking and shopping, and she didn't quite feel fluent with this set of tasks yet. She stood up to go look in the fridge.

"Groceries?" Marsha asked, clearly having overheard part of the conversation.

"Yeah," Bella said, putting her hand over the receiver.

"Don't worry, I've made a meal plan and a list. I'm going to get it before we pick up the children."

"I think I'm good," Bella told her dad.

"Okay, see you soon."

"See you," Bella said. She returned to her lunch, eating mechanically, trying to remember what it was like to pretend to Charlie that everything was fine, when somewhere, there was an enraged female vampire ready to wreak her vengeance, not just on her, but on the people she loved most.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	8. Man, part two

A/N for 2019-04-27: As always, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for the excellent revisions and edits. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts.

~ Erin

* * *

Bella had explained away Marsha's presence to Charlie with, "Some help seemed like a good idea." She'd already told Marsha not to mention Dr. Cullen. She didn't need the inevitable implosion the dropping of said name would bring.

"You fell and broke your hand?" Charlie asked her.

"Yep."

"Man!" Joshua piped up.

They were seated around the table, eating the dinner Marsha had left. This, in and of itself, was a minor miracle. "Yummy," Josh had pronounced, looking at the bubbling cheese on top of the casserole.

Charlie took another bite of food. He wasn't a man to spurn a good meal, despite his clear suspicions about Bella's answers to his questions.

Marsha had promised Bella she'd be back early the next morning and had left a card in case Bella needed help through the night.

Once the children were in bed, Charlie's questions became more pointed. "Are you seeing your psychiatrist?"

"Yes, Dad," Bella said, looking through the mail that had arrived.

"Have you told her you fainted?"

"No." Dang. She was overdue on the gas bill.

"Bella—"

She slapped the paper down on the coffee table. "Dad, it just happened this morning. I didn't sleep well last night and hadn't eaten much. It's just the strain, adding up."

"Then you should take something, so that you can sleep. You know that lack of sleep is one of your triggers, and on top of—"

"I know, Dad," she bit out, jaw tight. There were too many feelings to name roiling around her and she didn't want to prove Charlie's point even more by lashing out at him.

He seemed to sense this, clasping his hands together. They'd been sitting in the living room, each with a cup of tea that neither had touched. Charlie had made it, the choice of chamomile another clear sign of his worry.

"Did you see something?" he asked quietly.

"No. Why would you think I had?"

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. "You used to get pretty worked up. Hit people. Things."

She wanted to defend herself. It had only been one orderly, and he'd surprised her after all. Treading over that old ground would only alarm Charlie more.

"I didn't try to hit a delusion, Dad."

"Then you won't have any problem taking something to make sure you sleep well?"

"Sure. Let me go get my pills. I'm assuming you want to see me take them as well."

The last line was a cheap shot, and she knew it, but her new-found anger around Edward was large, wild, and about as indiscriminate as a bomb.

Charlie didn't visibly wince, but she caught the twitch in his eye.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning back to him. "I know you love me. I know you're trying to help. I'm just—"

"Grieving, honey. You're grieving, and you're allowed to be angry. And I can take it."

"You shouldn't have to," she sighed. "Okay, I'll—"

The doorbell interrupted her for the second time that day.

Charlie glanced at his watch. It was just after nine. Late for a visitor.

"You expecting someone?"

"No. Maybe Marsha sent someone to check on me?"

Charlie moved to the door, "Sit down. You shouldn't be getting up too suddenly anyway." Then he opened it.

Bella's view of the front entrance was blocked by Charlie's form, and she wondered at his silence. "Dad, who is it?"

"No one you need to see," he announced.

She stood up, alarmed by his tone, and then understood why he'd spoken that way.

"Hi Bella, I came for the twenty-four-hour check on your hand."

Charlie stared first at Edward, then at Bella.

"You wanna explain this?" he asked her.

No, not really, Bella thought.

Edward did it for her. He handed Charlie a card. "I work for the Portman Clinic. We offer at-home medical care. I happened to be the doctor on call last night."

Charlie turned away from him and stared at Bella. She could feel the deep, red flush on her face as he quirked an eyebrow up.

She nodded dumbly, feeling like she'd shrunk halfway back to her eighteen-year-old self.

Edward's voice was cool. "May I come in and check on your hand?"

Charlie wasn't letting him off so easily. "And you just happened to be on call tonight, too?"

"No, but we follow our patients as much as possible. Continuity of care is a priority for us." Bella marveled at Edward's ability to maintain a professional demeanor in this increasingly awkward situation.

She watched Charlie's jaw working, as if he was chewing on something better left unsaid. She didn't doubt Edward was hearing it anyway.

Recovering from the shock of seeing Edward again, Bella said, "Why don't you come through to the kitchen?"

Charlie looked like he wanted to object, but instead looked down, shaking his head at the floor. "You want me to stay, Bells?" he asked finally.

"I'm good, Dad."

"Okay," he said, letting out a heavy breath. Then he looked squarely at Edward, his features painted with suspicion and anger. When he spoke again, his words were directed only to Bella. "I'll be back in an hour. Do me a favour and don't leave the house with this one. And call me if he does anything stupid."

An awkward silence stretched between them all until Bella cleared her throat

Charlie picked up his jacket and walked out of the front door, not quite slamming it.

As soon as he was gone, Bella turned on Edward. "Why are you here? Really?"

"To check on your hand."

"Bull. Why?"

Edward didn't break eye contact, but she could see him thinking. Then he said, "Because I needed to be."

She meant to huff in frustration, but the air seemed to catch in her throat. "Is my Dad safe right now?" she asked instead.

"Yes."

"Is it Victoria?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"I said I would protect you, and I will, from any danger."

Relieved, and now astonishingly annoyed, Bella snorted derisively.

"Did you faint today?" Edward asked.

"You can leave, Edward. I'm fine." She turned to walk into the kitchen, but he was in front of her before she could move.

"Did you?" he asked.

"It's none of your business."

She watched his jaw tighten.

Good, she thought. It was about time he enjoyed some of what he'd so expertly served to her.

"Charlie will check my credentials, and I wouldn't put it past him to see if I'm actually here to conduct a medical exam."

Bella paused. This was true. Charlie would. If she wanted her children safe, she would need to play along to keep her father from being even more suspicious about Edward's presence.

"Fine. You can check my hand. Then you can go."

He was professional. She gave him that, watching him take her vitals.

"Your blood pressure is a little low," he said, frowning. "Did you faint?"

"Yes."

"How long were you out?"

She hadn't asked. She'd been so mortified by being the centre of so much unwanted attention. "I don't know."

"A few minutes? More than five? Ten?"

"Under five, I think."

"Are you taking any medication?"

"No."

"None at all? None prescribed?"

"You haven't gone through my medicine cabinet already?" she asked levelly, arching an eyebrow.

"Are you currently taking any medications?" he repeated, ignoring her snarky tone.

"Yes." She rattled off the names, watching as Edward wrote them down.

"It'd be best to avoid those if you've fainted, especially since your blood pressure is low. Are you taking anything for the pain in your hand?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Habit."

"And why is that a habit?"

Screw you, she thought.

"Something about having people force you to take pills, or shove needles into your arm, while an orderly holds you down—somehow that makes pills less than appealing."

Edward's hand paused, mid-note. "I'm so sorry for what I caused."

"You can be sorry all you want. Not my problem."

Edward kept his eyes on the paper. "Any other pain?"

"Why does it matter?"

"You had a car accident, and you anticipated the impact. You probably have soft-tissue injuries."

She reminded herself that the sooner she answered his questions, the sooner he would leave.

"Yes. Back and neck pain."

"Have you seen someone about it?"

"No."

"You should. Can you stand up?"

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"So I can assess your injuries."

"No." She'd had such assessments before, and the very last thing she wanted more of, was to have Edward Cullen touch her. As of yet, he'd barely made contact, and there was no need to change that.

He put his pen down and paused before he spoke. "I will do everything I can to protect you, and to eliminate Victoria. There are always two of us nearby, making sure you're safe."

Bella's gaze flicked up at him. Two of the Cullens? Here?

"But even with all that, there are three of you we're protecting, and despite us working to . . . remedy this situation, having you be able to physically pick up your children, and carry them, it might be essential. It _might_ be. I need to make sure you're well and that you're able to do that. So can I check your injuries and make sure you're getting the help you need, for your children's sake?"

The bastard. The absolutely effing bastard.

That was her first thought.

But the reaction that followed was more instinct than reason, and was probably just what he'd intended: she wanted to pick up her children and run. And she couldn't. Not while she was hurting the way she was.

"Fine."

She stood up, and went through the simple movements, feeling him press gently into her neck and back, asking her to rate the pain.

When he was done, he finished his notes. "You need to see a physiotherapist. There's one at our practise. I'll ask her—"

"Your clinic is real? I mean, I thought it was just another Cullen front."

Edward hesitated briefly before answering. "The clinic is real. I applied for a job with them, just like anyone else. I'll have the physiotherapist call you—"

"I can't afford that, Edward. I don't have benefits—"

"It won't cost you anything."

"You've done a lot already." Her face flushed. Taking his help was embarrassing enough. She didn't need more.

He was very quiet when he spoke. "Considering what I've cost you in your life, I've only begun to address some of that debt."

She wondered if he knew how bang-on he was with regard to finances. Her treatment hadn't been cheap, and while Charlie's benefits had been good, they hadn't been that good. There'd been a new small mortgage put on his house, and while he'd waved her worries away anytime she asked, she still fretted over him. She suspected that he was still paying off her medical bills too, though he wouldn't talk about it with her.

"Okay, but I'll cover half."

Edward opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, nodding. He suddenly stopped moving, in that manner she recognized. He was listening for, or to, something.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

"What is it?" she asked, ready to run for her children, sore back and broken hand be damned.

"Nothing bad," he said quickly. "Joshua's awake, and I think he's heard me." He paused a moment longer. "Yes, he's heard me."

A set of little, clearly audible steps announced her son's running down the upstairs hall.

Bella groaned. Bedtimes were never easy, but they'd grown increasingly difficult since Matt's death.

"What is it?" Edward asked.

"Nothing you'd understand," she mumbled, standing and moving to meet Joshua at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" she asked.

"Man?" he asked hopefully. His little fingers fluttered over the stuffed pig under his arm.

Bella's face fell. She'd hoped he'd come looking for Charlie. That Edward had been wrong.

"It's bedtime, Josh. Let's take piggy back to bed."

"No." Josh said, eyebrows furrowed. "Man."

Sighing, Bella said, "Sure. Let's go to the kitchen."

Edward sat where she'd left him. He looked up at both of them as they entered.

"Man!" Joshua said, this time with a grin.

"Hi Josh," Edward said softly. "I came to look at your mom's hand. Yes, her ouchie." He grinned as he used the term.

Joshua sat down across from Edward, looking intently at him. "I don't know," Edward said. "Do you want me to ask her?"

Bella looked at Edward sharply. She wanted him out of her house, and out of her life as fast as possible, but the lure of his ability to hear Josh was both powerful and maddening.

"He's wondering if you're upset," Edward said to Bella.

"No, Mommy's fine," Bella said, addressing Joshua.

Edward tipped his head, the tiniest of smirks passing over his lips. "He doesn't believe you."

Bella could have sworn there was a silent, 'and neither do I,' tacked onto this.

"I'm a little upset, but I'm okay," Bella said softly.

"He still wants to know why."

Her patience snapped. "And he can keep wondering. I think we're done, yes? I need to get my son back to bed."

"Man!" Joshua said, smacking his hands on the table and bouncing on his bum.

"You should go," Bella said. "Unless you want to explain to Charlie how you can hear his grandson's thoughts."

Joshua was emitting high-pitched moans and grunts, his movements becoming more animated.

"He's upset," Edward said.

"No shit. Good thing you were here to tell me. Please go."

She didn't watch him leave. She was too busy, giving her whole attention to Josh, who had moved his protest to the floor when Bella prevented him from following Edward.

Charlie found them this way a half hour later. With his help, Bella was able to convince Joshua to go back to bed.

"I'm gonna get to sleep, Dad. You got everything you need?"

"I'm good, but can we talk, before you go?"

Bella paused, eyes wary on her father. "Is it about Edward?"

He nodded, his expression just as watchful.

"Then no. Not tonight. After work tomorrow, if you want. Before the kids get home."

She beat a hasty retreat up to her own bed in an attempt to stave off the conversation he wanted to have. It was just too painful to imagine.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	9. Confrontations

A/N for 2019-05-01: Charlie is one of my favourite characters - he's just so much fun to write. Hope you all enjoy him and Edward here. And don't forget to thank the incredibly sharp Eeyorefan12 for the mad Beta skills going on with this story.

~ Erin

* * *

Edward was prepared when Charlie Swan arrived.

He'd heard him coming, of course, the enraged thoughts and fantasies spinning out in a broken kaleidoscope of options, some more violent than others, but none which boded well for Edward.

In contrast, Charlie's physical voice was calm when he asked to see _Doctor _Cullen. The only disparaging note rested in his emphasis of the title.

"Hello, Chief Swan," Edward said, walking slowly out to the waiting room.

"Dr. Cullen. I thought we might go for a walk."

Didn't he, though. Charlie was actually wishing for a good chunk of deep forest to lose Edward in.

Then Charlie's mind remembered what Bella had looked like when Sam Uley had brought her out of the woods.

Edward hoped his professional mask remained intact, because the feelings that image stirred up left him hollow and weak inside. "Of course," he managed.

Edward followed Charlie obediently, peripherally aware of the man's intentions. They walked silently, Charlie ahead, and Edward a few steps behind, until they came to one of the area's small parks.

"Have a seat," Charlie said, pointing to a bench, then sat down himself.

Edward did, relieved by a sudden shift in Charlie's progression of thoughts.

"I'm guessing you've got a pretty good idea about what I'd like to discuss," Charlie said.

"I think so, yes."

"Bella is my only child, Edward, and I've already had to watch her go through hell three times. The first time was when you left. The second was probably started by the first. The third I can't blame you for."

Edward fervently wished that was true.

Both of them had been staring at the park's playground, empty at the moment. Now Charlie faced him. "But it will be a cold day in hell before I let you hurt her again."

"I only showed up because I was the doctor on call—"

"Bullshit. I am not blind, Cullen. I can read a face. Body language. You are as much a doctor to her as I am her local law enforcement."

Edward nodded. He wouldn't insult the man by insisting on a ruse neither of them believed in.

"She has been through more than anyone her age should have seen, let alone experienced. I will do everything and anything to keep you from hurting her, without a care for the consequences to myself. Am I clear?"

Charlie's thoughts were most articulate. Several explicit scenarios played out in his mind. The one involving the accidental discharge of a firearm in Edward's presence was the kindest of them.

"You are very clear," he replied.

Charlie grunted, his thoughts full of disappointment at Edward's easy acquiescence. "You could probably date any woman you wanted to, Cullen. And yet, here you are, in a city of several million of them, with my daughter. And you just happened to be her on-call doctor. Care to explain the improbability of that?"

No. He didn't.

Lying was something he did so well, he had to catch himself before letting one slip from his tongue. He wanted what was between them to be the truth.

"I have few regrets in my life, Chief Swan." That was true for _this_ life, at least, this spasmodic span of twenty eight years. "But my greatest wish is that I could undo what I did when I left Bella. It was the worst decision I've ever made. If I have a chance to do any good for her now, I will. But I have no hope that she will ever forgive me. I'm beyond that."

Charlie was in no way convinced. "I doubt very much that will stop you from trying."

"You seem to think she's willing to _let_ me try."

"I didn't say that," Charlie said, glowering.

But Edward could hear what Charlie _didn't_ say: that he was afraid Bella would be all too willing to give Edward another chance and would open herself to heartbreak yet again. Edward owed Bella's father the knowledge of his honest intentions and found himself nodding in agreement. "I _will_ try," he said. "Because she deserves the chance to reject me."

Now Charlie stared. He called Edward several well-deserved names in his head. "Are you an idiot?"

Edward didn't answer what was clearly a rhetorical question.

"She's grieving. She's stressed to all hell, and has two kids to raise under crappy circumstances, with no family or friends nearby." Although Charlie didn't voice the thought, he wanted to ask if Edward had been dropped on his head as an infant—and then, with a mental wince, wondered if that was why he'd wound up in foster-care. The speculation didn't soften Charlie's anger, however, and he pressed on with his warnings. "She's in no state to navigate the kind of emotional burden you're shoving her way." He stood, clearly agitated. "Stay the fuck away from my daughter if you care about her at all." Then he walked away, muttering increasingly-unkind characterizations of Edward's emotional abilities, possible childhood trauma be damned.

\- 0 -

Marsha brought Bella home before going to get the children from daycare and for this, Charlie was grateful. Conversations with Mer and Josh around were delightful, but not very productive.

"Put your feet up," Charlie said, watching Bella sit down.

She chuckled. "You miss rubbing my feet, or something?" She wiggled her toes.

"Sure. Gotta keep in practice for Sue."

He perched on the other end of the couch, picking up Bella's foot and starting the massage, beginning at her heel. He and Sue had taken a course in, of all things, reflexology. Sue had insisted he needed a distraction from taking care of Bella. He'd practiced on Bella, who had laughed at first, but soon learned to enjoy the benefits of his skill.

She sighed as he worked her foot in small circles.

Perfect. He wanted her relaxed. He had no plans to ambush her, but very much wanted to hear what her open thoughts were on Edward Cullen.

"Good day at work?" he asked.

"Yeah. Nice kids. Good lesson plan." She closed her eyes, and melted back into the couch cushions with another breath. "But if you keep going at this, I'm going to fall asleep."

"Did you not sleep well last night?"

"No, no. It was fine. Just catching up, I guess. The sleep hasn't been great lately. I've had a lot of dreams."

Nightmares, he suspected, but he didn't push the point.

"Getting to know any good people at work?"

"A few, here and there. It's hard to when I'm at so many schools."

"But you'll get a contract at some point."

"Probably," she admitted. "It would be nice going to the same place every day."

Charlie kept working, moving up to her arch.

"You don't have to beat around the bush, Dad. I know you want to talk about Edward."

"I do," he said. "I've already spoken to him."

Bella tensed. "What?"

"I went to his office."

"Dad—"

"Let me talk," he said, taking a firm grip of her big toe. It was her most sensitive spot, and she stopped moving. "I didn't tell him anything specific about you, and I couldn't bring my gun across the border, so I left him in one piece."

"Awesome," Bella said, grimacing.

"But I did tell him that I'd seen you hurt enough, first when he left, and then with all the other things life has thrown your way. I made it very clear that I wouldn't stand by to watch more of it happen at his hands."

"Not going to happen, Dad. It was just like he said, he was the doctor—"

"That's bull, Bella, and you know it. A city this size? He finagled this somehow. I don't know how, but he did. That boy wants a second shot with you."

"Did he say that, Dad? That _boy_?" She smirked a little at his choice of wording.

"Like I told him, I'm not blind or stupid. I'll let him speak for himself, whatever crap he wants to spew, but I'm done watching you be hurt if I can prevent it."

His fatherly protectiveness nearly brought tears to her eyes and her voice trembled a little when she spoke next. "You can't stop life hurting the people you love, Dad. I think we both know that."

"No, but I can tell Edward Cullen that there'll be hell to pay if he hurts you again."

"And what will you do, Dad? Smuggle a gun across the border and shoot him?" She tried to suppress another smile, but Charlie wasn't fooled.

He frowned, not liking her levity.

"You feeling okay?" he asked.

Her facial expression sobered immediately. "Yeah, sorry, it's just easier to joke about this."

Of course it was.

"I have no interest in seeing more of Edward Cullen than I need to, Dad." She paused, biting her lip. "Though, having a doctor who makes house calls feeling beholden to you is mighty handy."

Charlie snorted. "For you, yes. You are the most accident-prone person I know."

"And I seem to have passed that gene onto Mer, too."

Charlie grunted his assent. So far, in her short life, Meredith had seen many hospital visits. "As long as he doesn't hurt you, he can be your housecleaner for all I care. Just—guard your heart, honey. I see how you look at each other."

It was Bella's turn to snort. "Maybe you need to get your vision checked then."

"Nice," Charlie said. "Make fun of Grandpa." He smiled, happy to have these words of reassurance from her. He didn't believe it for a minute, but if Bella wanted to live in denial about how she felt about Edward Cullen, all the better. Maybe the boy would give up and move on. A man could hope.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	10. Late

A/N for 2019-05-03: Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for their mad proofreading skills and for constantly nudging errant characters and commas back into place.

Thank you for all the comments, favourites and follows. I do answer questions as they appear in comments via PM, so log-in if you'd like a response.

Cheers,

Erin

* * *

Bella's work continued, the remainder of the week passing by smoothly with much of its ease due to Marsha's help. Phong, the weekend caregiver, was just as efficient. She insisted on taking the children to the park for the morning, telling Bella she could get her fill of them in the afternoon while Phong took on the housework.

"You sit!" she chided, as Bella stood to put away some toys. "You rest. Be busy later."

Sufficiently intimidated, Bella did as she was instructed, surprised to find herself waking up from an impromptu nap an hour later.

She actually felt relaxed when Monday arrived, and looked forward to her teaching assignments for the week. When she arrived at her placement, though, the principal was waiting for her.

"Uh, hi," Bella said, struggling for the man's name. He'd been the one that had sent her home the day she had fainted.

"Barry Garcia," he said, holding out his hand. "Not sure we were officially introduced. I wanted to welcome you, considering you'll be with us for a while."

Bella blinked. "I will?"

"Oh, uh . . . did human resources not reach you this morning?"

"No," Bella said.

The man flushed. "Dang. Well, guess the cat's out of the bag on this one. So sorry. Let me start again. Welcome to Semlin High. You'll be taking over for Ms. Chang for the rest of the year. She has all English classes, most of which are grade 12s. Lovely kids. Actually, I think you were in for her the last time you were here, ah . . . right, when you passed out. Sorry, you probably didn't want to be reminded of that . . ."

The man's verbal diarrhea continued on, and it was only the arrival of the department head that spared Bella further verbiage..

"Barry, give the newbie a break," a tall woman said, smiling as she walked up to the front desk. "I'm Randy Singh. Let me give you the two-bit tour. I'm betting Patty's left you a mile-high stack of resources for your classes."

The day whirled on from there. Bella found herself immersed in reading lesson plans, learning student names, and trying to figure out how and when she was going to mark all the assignments the students would need to complete for the remainder of the term.

By the end of the day, she was mentally and physically exhausted, but she was excited, too. She had loved teaching her own classes, and when she and Matt had moved to Vancouver, she'd reluctantly moved back into substitute work, as that was all that had been available.

As she moved through the groupings of desks, she was happy to see the students were doing well, having mostly mastered the concept she'd taught them. This part was always exciting, and there were some shy smiles from the new faces as she made a few jokes and asked questions.

The first wave of dizziness hit her hard, and she paused, a hand on a student's desk, waiting for it to end. When it passed, she moved back to her own seat, putting her head in her hands, pretending to look at the large desk calendar.

The second bout of lightheadedness was harder, and she closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" one of the girls nearby asked.

"Yes, thank you," she said, trying to make her smile stretch but barely managing.

The girl went back to her work and Bella kept her eyes open, letting them wander over the calendar.

She had avoided looking at calendars. It was difficult to be reminded of dates. Of how long it had been since Matt died. The big block letters and numbers told her it had now been seven weeks.

There was the rising of a sudden lump in her throat, but she forced it away.

Bella thought of other dates, realizing it would soon be Mer's birthday. She'd be five. There was a bittersweet smile at this thought. She'd have to start organizing a birthday party.

Then she thought about the last few weeks, and realized that something else had been missing during this time. She felt her eyes widening and her heart rate pick up as she frantically counted days, trying to locate something that she must have missed in all her distress.

The bell went off and she gaped like a fish, staring at the calendar, belatedly remembering to blurt out, "Class dismissed!" as the students were already leaving the room.

She was happy when one of them slammed the door, because the first word out of her mouth was a loud, "Shit!"

She repeated it several times for good measure.

Then she sat staring at the calendar.

She was trying to tell herself that stress could very well be the reason for what she was worried about, when a tentative knock at the door made her look up. Then there was the sound of a key and the lock turning.

"Hi," came a man's voice. "You okay?"

"Yes?" She wasn't cognizant enough to even pretend she was.

The door opened, and a familiar body pushed itself into the room.

"Oh, hi," Bella said, searching for his name.

"Grant," he supplied. "Bella, right?"

"Yeah," she said, standing up.

"No, no, sit, please." He walked over with two steaming cups held in one hand, tucking his keys back into the pocket of his apron. "I figured if you were swearing like that, I should pour an extra cup.""

"Oh God, you heard that?"

"Uh, yeah. Cinder block isn't very soundproof." He grinned and tapped the wall with his finger. "Not to worry. I've had a few moments where I've wanted to say the same thing. Were the kids bugging you?"

"No, they were great. I just—I realized I'd . . . forgotten about something. Important."

This was an understatement. There was a silent and unbroken stream of obscenities running through her head.

"I empathize. I forgot to pay my property taxes this year." He shook his head. "Those bean counters at city hall are the worst. No grace period whatsoever."

"Yeah," Bella said absent-mindedly.

"Have some tea," Grant said, "You look a bit peaky. You feeling better? I was kinda worried after you left last time."

"I am, thank you, just—new job. You know?"

"I do. I remember my first year here. Busy times."

Bella was looking around, wanting to leave, to go figure out what the hell she was going to do, but there were still things to be readied for tomorrow.

"Anyway, I'm next door in the shop—well, all the shops—if you need anything, or have questions." Grant took the hint and stood up, getting ready to leave.

"Thank you," Bella said genuinely. "Really. This was very kind. I'm sorry I'm not better company right now."

He waved his hand. "Nope. You're busy. You've got stuff to do. Holler if I can help though. Happy to." He disappeared from the room, leaving Bella to contemplate her cup of tea, a stack of papers to mark, and a rising sense of panic.

\- 0 -

She refused to think about it. There was nothing she could do.

After she and Marsha had gotten the children home and fed, Bella focused on the evening routine, trying to be present. She almost fell asleep reading _Bunny Cakes_ to Josh, who demanded four repeat performances, piping up with single words at favoured moments.

When she was certain the children were asleep, she picked up the paper bag she'd brought home from the store. Her hand was a bit better and she was glad Marsha didn't have to drive her anywhere anymore. She wasn't sure how she would have explained the urgent need to stop and pick something up from the drugstore that Marsha couldn't get for her.

It had been several years since she'd had to use one of the items in her hand, and now, as she set the plastic stick on the bathroom counter, she waited for the small windows to change colour—or to not, hoping against hope that she was wrong.

The second blue line was a vivid and horrifying affirmation.

She wanted to deny it. To scream. To beat something over the devastating irony of this outcome. God, she and Matt had talked about a third child.

And now they'd—_she'd_ have one.

She muffled a sob.

Putting the stick and the box in the garbage, she washed her hands, and then walked in the living room, phone in hand.

Still sitting on the coffee table was the card Edward had given Charlie.

The wave of anger found a suitable direction to move in, and she punched in Edward's number.

It rang twice before there was a knock at the door.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, she pressed the end-call button on the phone and grumbled about missionaries and political canvassers as she headed for the front door. She'd had two sets of both in the last week during the evening hours and was ready to provide a set of colourful and repellant invectives strong enough to deter any future visits.

She was already talking when she reached the door and swung it open. "I don't need Jesus. I won't vote for your candidate, and—"

But it was Edward who stood on her porch.

"Do you not answer your phone?" she asked, recovering herself.

"I didn't think you'd call unless it was important," he said.

It was important.

"Please come in," she said, keeping her voice down. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of Josh's request for "Man." Her polite words contrasted sharply with the anger that had been boiling since the afternoon. She stepped back and watched Edward close the door behind him before she spoke again.

"You knew—when you saw me last time. Didn't you?"

"What do you think I knew?" Edward asked carefully.

"Are you seriously going to play dumb on this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his face expressionless.

"I'm pregnant, Edward."

His mouth closed in a tight line.

Yes, he'd known.

"So you did know."

"Yes," he sighed. "I knew."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and met her eyes with a penetrating stare. "Do you want to even see me, or have me in your life in any way, Bella?"

"What does that have to do with my question?"

"Do you?"

Bella didn't even have to think about it. "No. Any other obvious questions you need answers to?"

"Considering what I know of you, I assume that this child is your late husband's."

Was he trying to enrage her even more? Her cheeks were suddenly hot. "Are you seriously asking me to tell you I haven't been sleeping around?"

"No, I'm saying that I'm assuming that."

"And?"

"I didn't say anything because I thought I would be the last person you'd ever want to hear this news from. You hate me, and with good cause. I've done nothing but bring pain and danger into your life. I didn't want to pollute your good news in any way. I'm sorry if my thinking was incorrect."

She took in several deep breaths before she turned to go into the living room, sinking down onto the couch. Edward followed, walking slowly in her direction before stopping a few feet away.

"Is there anything else I need to know? Anything that you know about my life, my children, my husband—anything?"

Edward watched her for a long time before speaking.

"I will answer any questions you have, and I'll tell you anything you want to know, but I'll warn you. I think you'll regret asking."

"You also thought that leaving me in the woods after breaking my heart was a good idea, Edward. Your judgement isn't exactly high in my esteem."

His face was still that stony mask. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but not tonight. If you still want answers to those questions, I'll answer them all, but tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?"

"You won't like my answer."

"I wasn't asking if I'd like it," she gritted out.

"You've just found out you're pregnant. You're tired, angry, and grieving. If you still want me to tell you everything after you've slept on it, I will. I'm just hoping you'll change your mind."

She was fuming as he moved back to the door. She kept her hands clamped around her knees, face flaming, as she watched him walk out of her house once more.

\- 0 -

Bella's sleep that night was broken, first by her anger, and then by the well-rehearsed nightmare.

"Jacob!" she shrieked, sitting up in bed. Hands clawing at the covers, she gasped for air, reminding herself it was just a dream—now, anyway.

Even so, the memory weighed on her in fresh ways. The violence of Jacob's fight with Victoria was newly-vivid, her blood-colored curls an intimation of what her teeth could do. The recollection of the snapping crunch made her shudder.

"Mama?" Josh called. There was a rustling as he stood up.

She stifled her groan, reaching out her hand to his. The room was lit by the streetlights' phosphorescence and the soft glow of the room's night light. "Mama," he said, patting his face, little eyebrows pushed together, looking at her. "Mama," he reiterated.

"Hi sweetie. I just had a bad dream. I'm okay."

"Man," he suggested helpfully, bouncing on his toes.

"Man is not here," she said gently, her unease growing.

"Ma-aaan!" he whined, patting the side of the playpen for emphasis.

"He's not here," she said, lowering her voice, "but Mama's here."

"Ma-AAAN!" he cried, voice rising.

Bella's phone buzzed and Joshua quieted momentarily, watching her intently as she looked at it.

It was a text from Edward: _I'm nearby._

Well good for you, she thought.

Joshua's little body was tensing, hands clasping at the sides of the playpen. Then he swung a leg up and scrambled over the side. Climbing into Bella's bed, he pulled at her hand. "Man!"

Josh was awake. It would be hours before he'd go to sleep again. She and Matt had taken turns when he'd had bad nights.

"You want to see the man?" Bella asked him.

He nodded, breathing still rapid.

"Okay, mama will ask if he can come." She looked around the bedroom. They always tried to at least keep him in here those difficult nights. It seemed to help shorten the waking time.

But the idea of having Edward in her bedroom left her midsection in knots.

She refused to even think of her initial reaction when she'd thought he was merely the product of her mind.

_Please come_, she typed back. Along with the message she sent a silent prayer that she didn't regret this.

I'm doing this for Josh, she told herself. And anything that helps him is good.

Even if it's Edward Cullen.

There was a soft knocking at the upstairs deck door and then a creaking as it opened. Bella stiffened, realising she'd forgotten to lock it the other day.

"May I come in?" Edward called.

"Yes, we're in here," she answered, belatedly realizing he'd already know by scent and sound.

His form solidified in the sparse light.

"Man!" Josh squeaked.

"My name is Edward, remember?" he said, coming and sitting on the far edge of the bed.

Joshua crawled over towards him, putting a hand to Edward's cheek.

Edward stiffened a bit, forehead wrinkling, glancing first at Bella and then back at Josh.

"What?" she asked, suddenly afraid. Was something wrong?

"He's . . . louder. Clearer, when he touches me." He smiled at Josh. "Yes. I can hear you." He nodded again. "I don't know of anyone else who can. Just me. Of course." Then they both looked at Bella.

It made her stomach lurch.

"He wants to know where his Dad is," Edward said softly.

She put her fist to her mouth, nodding, blinking back tears. After a few deep breaths, she managed, "He's gone, sweetie. Daddy died. He's in the ground."

Joshua's face puckered a little. He turned back to Edward.

"Yes," Edward said softly, his own face intent on the little one before him. "That's right. Where the itchy grass was. . . . in the box."

Bella was trying very hard not to cry. She wasn't succeeding.

Edward's hand had slipped behind Joshua's back, making slow circles there, as their conversation continued.

Reaching over to the other side of the bed, Bella pulled Matt's pillow onto her lap, burying her face in it, only half-able to listen to what Edward was saying.

This was not fair, not in the slightest. The man she had loved, and who had loved her in return was gone. And the one who had broken her heart remained.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before Josh's body leaned into Edward's, his little hand falling to the bed. Both Edward's arms were around him as he waited, perfectly still, for some invisible signal that would allow him to move.

"I can put him back to bed," Bella whispered.

Edward shook his head, mouthing, "Not yet."

She was nodding off herself, blinking, when she felt the covers lifted over her.

"He's in bed," Edward said, moving away.

"Wait!" she slurred out.

His dim form paused.

"Thank you," she mumbled, and then sleep gently claimed her, the world fading to a blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	11. Not Insane

A/N for 2019-05-05: My beta is a rock-star - and we love watching your reactions to this story.

A guest asked: What is the metaphor referenced in the title? It's addressed in chapter five.

As for this being a happily-ever-after - trust me, we'll get there.

~ Erin

* * *

"Your former boyfriend treated you, as a doctor," Jennifer said levelly, looking at Bella.

"Yes."

"Your first boyfriend?"

"Yes."

Bella knew what was coming next and tried not to visibly clench her jaw.

"And has anyone else seen him?"

"Yes. My father. My children." She pulled Edward's card from her pocket, handing it over. "Here. You can call and verify it. I know you need to."

Seeing her psychiatrist wasn't just for her own sake. The doctor who'd initially handled her prenatal care for Josh had taken her history and then immediately called the Ministry for Family and Child development, citing concerns for child safety. The social worker who had conducted the assessment had told her and Matt not to worry, and assured them they were wonderful parents to Meredith. Her involvement, though, had triggered the creation of a file, and such things didn't go away easily.

Now there were annual checks. At the last one, the social worker had been concerned by Josh's apparently-slow development—or at least, that had been Bella's impression at the end of it. She'd been in a total fog the first few weeks after Matt's death. What had stuck, though, was the social worker's explanation that Bella needed to continue psychiatric treatment as a condition of her low-safety-risk status.

"I do," her psychiatrist said. "I know that's upsetting."

"It's fine." It wasn't. But she had greater worries than her psychiatrist talking to Edward.

"I also just found out I'm pregnant."

Jennifer paused before she asked, "Are congratulations in order?"

"I don't know," Bella said. "Matt would've been so happy, but—I don't know—how I feel, or what I'm going to do." Her hands spread out, as if trying to grasp possibilities out of the air.

Bella hadn't realized that there were tears on her cheeks until Jennifer nudged a box of tissues toward her. While she reached for them, Jennifer spoke sympathetically. "I can appreciate that. You do have a choice, Bella. I can refer you to a clinic that offers counselling around that."

The very notion made her nauseous. "No, thank you. I can't—I couldn't make that choice."

Jennifer nodded, continuing to make quiet notes on her pad of paper. After a few minutes of letting Bella breathe, she spoke again. "You said you've started a new job, too. Those are big changes, all in a very short period of time. Have you had a return of any symptoms?"

Yes. No. Maybe? What did you say when you discovered that the world was tilted in a way that everyone else denied? When you learned that you, and your children, were in more danger than you could have imagined . . . danger that no one else could understand, or would even believe? Bella resisted the shudder that ran through her body. Victoria's malevolence was practically palpable.

After a moment, she realized Jennifer was still waiting for an answer.

"No."

Her psychiatrist's long fingers tapped the end of her pencil on the paper in front of her. "It would be completely understandable if they had."

"I'm not seeing things," Bella said.

Jennifer's "Okay," barely concealed her skepticism. "Your medications are still safe during pregnancy."

"No," Bella said quickly. She'd refused before, despite assurances from the doctors treating her. She hadn't taken so much as a Tylenol in her other pregnancies, and she wasn't starting now. "People thought thalidomide was safe, too."

"And vaccines cause Autism," Jennifer quipped. She lifted her eyebrows at Bella.

"My children are vaccinated," Bella spat back.

"I'm not suggesting you're subscribing to a fallacy of the same nature, but I think you're letting an unreasonable fear dictate choices around your mental health. Your very important mental health."

Bella made herself pause before answering. "As you've pointed out, my husband has just died, I've just found out I'm pregnant, and I have a new teaching job. I've also made sure to get help at home, see my psychiatrist, and have my Dad visit when I felt unwell. All good things. Is there anything in my recent behaviour that has given you cause for concern?"

The answering "No," sounded begrudging.

"So perhaps I'm not the only one operating from a little bit of unreasonable fear."

Jennifer's face broke into a rare grin. "Touché, Bella."

Bella allowed herself the same expression. Such a concession was rare.

"You are doing well. I'm sorry if I haven't adequately recognized that." She fingered the card Bella had given her. "Do you mind if we call right now?"

Bella blinked, trying to hide her shock at the suggestion. Psychiatrists never confronted patients about their delusions. Ever. This meant—

"You believe me," she blurted out.

"I think it is quite likely . . ." she glanced at the card, "that Dr. Cullen is real." Her expression became serious. "But if it becomes apparent that things aren't as you've interpreted them, are you willing to take the medication I've prescribed?"

Bella's gut clenched. What if Edward was tight-lipped? What if he didn't want to admit their past? He'd left her, and he'd only come back out of a sense of obligation, for a debt to her safety. A swell of anger made her face flush.

"We don't have to," Jennifer said hesitantly. "I can call later."

"No," Bella made herself say. "It's fine. It's been awkward, that's all. Some rejections still . . . sting."

Jennifer nodded, and then brought her office phone over to the table that sat between them. "I'm going to put him on speaker phone, but I'd ask that you not speak."

"Why?"

"Because I want him to be honest, and people are less inclined to do so when they know the subject of their discussion is listening in."

"Sure," Bella sighed.

His voice was as musical as it always was when he came on the line. She watched Jennifer blink at the sound of it, but she retained her placid expression.

"This is Dr. Jennifer Adelaide calling from Vancouver Coastal Health Psychiatric Services. I'd like to discuss a patient of yours, if you have a moment."

"I do," Edward said.

"Wonderful. Are you able to verify my credentials at this time?"

"Yes," he said, "Just a moment, please."

They exchanged details, and the rustling sounds on the line told Bella that he was making a good show of looking up Jennifer's license number.

Still, her stomach twisted. Please, she begged silently. Please, tell her the truth. The idea of filling her body—and her baby—with medications left her heart racing and a fine sheen of sweat on her face.

Jennifer glanced at her. "Is this still okay?" she mouthed.

Bella nodded, patting her stomach, hoping it suggested the possibility of morning sickness. Those symptoms hadn't manifested yet, but she didn't hold out hope that they wouldn't.

"Thank you, Dr. Adelaide. I've verified your credentials. How can I help you?"

"I'd like to know how you know Ms. Isabella Hamilton."

"I treated her last week, in her home, for . . ." he paused, the sound of paper shuffling again, "for two broken metacarpals in her right hand."

"And is that the only capacity in which you've known her?"

"No."

"Could you elaborate, please?"

Edward was quiet for a moment, then said, "It's personal."

"I understand, Dr. Cullen. I have her consent to ask these questions. I'm attempting to ascertain her soundness at this time. This pertains to her MCFD file."

Did Edward even know what that was code for?

"We had a personal relationship ten years ago, which I ended when my family left the area."

Bella couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, then stopped herself, mid-exhale. Had he heard?

"Is there anything else?" Edward asked.

Thank God. He probably had heard. And ignored it.

"Yes. Would you mind describing Ms. Hamilton for me?"

"Certainly." His physical description of Bella was precise. Detailed.

"And your impression of her emotional state, when you last treated her?"

Still sitting perfectly still, Bella's hands tightened again over her knees.

"Quite calm, given the circumstances." Edward's voice maintained a professional tone.

"And what were those circumstances?"

"It was the first time we'd seen each other in ten years, which was awkward enough, not including our personal history. I would have expected her to ask me to leave, to ask for another doctor. She didn't. She accepted my help then, and again when I returned."

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Cullen. I think I have all I need."

Bella was sure that had gone well. That had gone well, right? She waited for Jennifer's pronouncement.

"You okay?" Jennifer asked.

Bella nodded, breathing tight and anxious.

"I think you should take the medication, Bella, but I'll leave the choice to you. Your prescription is on file at the pharmacy."

Near home, Bella impulsively pulled over on one of the side-streets near her house, needing a few minutes of calm. This one important obstacle had been cleared for now, and she looked out over the metaphorical landscape of her life, the veritable mountain range of difficulties stretching before her.

She was pregnant. _Pregnant._ And she was so damn sentimental and emotional she couldn't even contemplate ending the very real complication of another child in her life. _Matt's _child.

"Oh my God," she said, putting her head in her hands. She let herself shed some tears and then wiped her face, closing her eyes as if she could block out the world in this moment. It didn't work. The litany of issues she needed to face continued as if her thoughts were set on repeat.

She would have to use the life insurance money. With daycare, the mortgage, and groceries, she was just squeaking by. She'd have to let a room, too, or tutor, or figure out how to make the income stretch.

Her phone rang.

It was the physiotherapist.

"Shit!" she muttered, looking at the number. She was supposed to be at her appointment right now. She'd completely forgotten.

"Hello?" she said, picking up the call.

"Hi Bella, it's Annie. I'm so sorry, I know we were supposed to meet right now, but I've been called to an emergent case here. I'm going to have to reschedule."

Edward, Bella realized. He must have known she'd be late.

She struggled with simultaneous feelings of resentment and gratitude towards him.

"Oh," Bella said, "That's okay. I'm actually running late myself."

They scheduled another appointment, and when Bella hung up, she hesitated for a moment, before texting Edward: _Thank you._

His response was immediate: _You're welcome._

Alone again with her thoughts, she realized that she would also need to add a midwife to her regular round of appointments.

Marsha's time with her would be over at the end of the week. She tried not to think about what that would mean. The physical and emotional relief Marsha's help had provided had given her space to breathe. To think. To do more than dash from one emergency to another.

"How am I going to manage?" she whispered.

A wave of dizziness made her blink quickly, consciousness flickering in and out along with it. There were enough gaps in the darkness to register the familiar voice that said, "You'll do just fine," and the stone-cold hand that brushed by hers, turning off her car's ignition.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.


	12. Enough

A/N for 2019-05-08: For those of you who've been wanting answers from Edward, I think this will satisfy you on a few points.

Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for the stellar editing.

~ Erin

* * *

Edward was sitting in the passenger seat when her eyes fluttered open.

She was submerged in the murky ocean of half-remembered truths: the ones that let her think this was all a delusion. As her mind found its way to the surface, her eyes squinted, taking him in. He still looked worn, bruise-like shadows topping his cheekbones.

She stopped herself before she extended a hand to touch them.

This Edward was real, she reminded herself.

This was the Edward that had left her.

"Have you been eating?" he asked. "Drinking lots of water?"

Huh?

"What?"

"You passed out again," Edward said.

Right. The day's events were returning.

"I think so," she said. Had she? The day had been another blur, classes, and then meetings and the psychiatrist. The phone call. The missed appointment.

She blushed at the recollection. She hated to be indebted to him more.

"Why don't I drive you home?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"You're not." He frowned. "If you're fainting, you can't drive."

"I'm fine," she repeated.

"If you start the car, I'm phoning 911."

"You wouldn't," she all but hissed.

"Watch me."

She was being stupid, she knew, but it was like an emotional bomb went off in her head every time he was around.

"Fine. You drive."

He was at her door before she could step out, a hand held out for hers. She ignored it and stood up, feeling herself wobble. When his arm braced her waist, she resisted the urge to pull away.

"Who else is here?" she asked abruptly. He had said there were two of them always nearby. It seemed ridiculous that they were hiding.

"Jasper," he said softly.

"Why don't I ever see anyone else?"

"I didn't think you'd want to, after what we did."

She should move, she knew. Get back into the car. Go home. But his scent was thick and intoxicating. She let herself breathe it in.

God, it hurt, being so close, knowing there were unclosable miles between them. And she hated herself for still being attracted to him. What kind of special self-loathing was that, craving the man who had so thoroughly rejected you?

"Where do you stay, when you're nearby?"

"Out of sight." He hadn't moved. She didn't dare look at his face.

"Outside?"

"Yes."

"So you're all hanging around my neighbourhood—what, stuck in trees or behind buildings or what?"

"It depends," he answered.

She could have sworn she caught a hint of humor in his voice but purposefully ignored it. "That's risky," she concluded.

"It's fine," he murmured. His arm nudged gently, clearly wanting her to move or sit down again.

"I get if they don't want to spend time with me," Bella said, "but it's stupid for them to have to wait around outside. The basement isn't finished, but it's better than someone thinking you're a bunch of peeping toms."

Edward's body stiffened. "You think—no. They _want_ to see you Bella. I just—I didn't want to make this difficult for you, or for them. The choice to leave was mine. They'd love to see you again, but that's entirely up to you."

She swallowed, knowing he would've heard her heart lurch. She could practically feel her own facial expression morphing from confusion to disbelief as a mixture of emotions swirled through her. _They_ hadn't wanted to leave. He had chosen for them.

They hadn't rejected her. Not completely.

"Then," she started, her voice only slightly hesitant, "Jasper may as well join us, if he wants."

Edward's frozen posture remained. "Are you sure? You're alright having my family near your children?"

She knew what he was asking. It was a risk. His kind were always a risk.

Jasper had been the precipitator last time, but it could easily have been any of them. She remembered Alice's, and then Esme's pained faces as they'd fled the room during her only, and most disastrous birthday with the Cullens. It felt like yesterday.

Then she remembered Victoria.

"If something happens," she said. "If you need to get Josh and Mer away, then it's better they know everyone. It wouldn't help if someone tried to stop you because they thought you were abducting my children."

If something happens. It was as close as she wanted to come, in that moment, to verbally acknowledging what the stakes were.

"Alright," Edward said.

After he helped her into the passenger side, she fastened her seat belt. When the door behind her opened, she didn't turn around, but caught sight in the rear-view mirror of Jasper sitting there, giving a polite nod in her direction.

"A pleasure to see you again, Bella," he said softly.

"You too," she managed. Her voice was thick with emotion. She noted that her unsettled feeling remained, and she gave him a half smile in the mirror for not trying to alter what she knew would pain him. "Thanks."

He returned the expression as Edward pulled away from the curb.

Marsha's car was gone when they arrived. Bella realized she would be out picking up the children.

Jasper got out first, moving to the back yard, nostrils slightly flaring occasionally.

Edward's hand reached out to help her up. Either from emotional exhaustion or acclimation, she didn't resist taking it, and stood, feeling another wave of dizziness.

The hand became an arm around her waist, and they walked into the house together, Bella trying not to let her body betray her with its reactions to Edward's touch.

He's only here to deal with Victoria, she reminded herself.

She sat down, folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them, aware that Edward was rifling through her cupboards and fridge.

"Here," he said, presenting her with a glass of juice and a sliced apple.

She ate and drank, and the dizziness receded slowly.

"Is light-headedness normal for you with your pregnancies?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. Never had it before."

He frowned, murmuring something she didn't catch.

"Pardon?"

"Sorry. Just talking with Jasper. Third pregnancies are a bit of a wild card."

"What does that mean?"

"They tend to not follow prior patterns."

Great. Just what she needed. An unplanned _and_ unpredictable pregnancy. Feeling yet another need of her condition making itself known, Bella stood.

Edward did too.

"I think I can make it to the washroom on my own, _Doctor _Cullen."

There was the briefest flinch on his face as she stressed his title.

Coming into the dining room, she found Jasper deftly smacking a piece of broken dishrail back into place.

She stared. Matt had said he'd fix it for months. Of course, Matt had been meaning to fix a lot of things in their very fixer-upper house for a long time, with very few of those jobs actually getting done. Now she looked at the piece of wood, and at Jasper, who looked a little sheepish.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I should have asked—"

"No, no. Thank you," she said. "It's needed doing for a while."

She caught his gaze sweeping the rest of the room, where many other small and large projects clearly needed attention. "Fill your boots," she chuckled. "If you want."

When she returned, he was doing just that—Matt's toolbox on the dining room table.

"I was joking, Jasper," Bella said guiltily.

"I know," he said, hammering a piece of loose trim into place. "I wasn't."

Crud. "Jasper, really, it was a joke. You've all uprooted your lives to deal with Victoria. You don't owe me anything, and I can get someone to fix these things—"

Jasper's face was all seriousness. "I think we might have disrupted your life slightly more before, and after, we left you."

His eyes rested on her briefly, and she looked away, uncomfortable with the memories his words had resurrected.

"As for having someone come in to do these things, well, pardon my saying so, but I doubt you can, or will do that right now. I'll feel better knowing there's nothing sharp around that might nick someone." He had turned his attention back to the piece of wood he was holding.

Oh.

"Exactly," he murmured, apparently feeling her acquiescence. "Just making sure things are . . . safe. For you. For your children."

As safe as they could be, with a coven of vampires guarding you.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Bella?" Edward asked, coming around the corner. His face was carefully neutral.

They made an odd trio in her dining room, Jasper with his back to them, fiddling with another piece of trim.

"Sure," she said sitting at the table there.

"Who's authorized to pick up Meredith and Joshua from daycare?"

"Right now, me, Charlie, Marsha, Eric and Jan."

"Family friends?"

She nodded.

"Can you update that list to include all of us?"

The question was a punch in the gut, but she was getting used to those, she realized. "Yes. I can."

"You also need to stress that no one else is to pick them up from daycare. Ever."

"Okay," she said, curling her hands into fists at his tone.

"Enough," Jasper muttered to his brother.

There was a tense set of looks between them. Edward turned his eyes away first.

Jasper pretended to clear his throat.

After a moment, Edward spoke again. "No, it's not a bad idea at all."

Bella had forgotten what it felt like, hearing these one-sided conversations between Edward and members of his family. She couldn't say she'd missed it. "What?"

"Your house still needs work."

"Yes," she bristled. She and Matt had worked hard on the renovations, taking out the old plaster walls and updating the plumbing and electrical work, adding insulation in parts and putting in drywall. None of it was painted though, and the final coat of mudding shed dust every time it was disturbed.

"It's not a comment on your home," Jasper assured her. "I was just thinking it would be easier for us to blend in if we looked like we were continuing the work. It'll reduce the gossip." He shrugged.

"Some of your neighbours are already suspicious," Edward said.

"I don't really know them, so it doesn't really matter."

"You don't?" Jasper asked, frowning.

Bella shook her head.

"It still matters," Edward said. "All of us have enough expertise with renovations that we can do the work, and make it look plausible."

She was fine with the ruse, but there was simply no room, financially, to make it work.

Jasper, either sensing her discomfort, or legitimately being thrifty, spoke to this. "We have a lot of leftover supplies from our current house renovations. Emmett and I can bring those over tomorrow and make things look convincing."

There was a thumping up the outside stairs.

Edward stood, moving towards the kitchen quickly.

"Man!" Josh shrieked, as the door banged open with his entrance.

Bella followed at a more sedate pace. "Hey!" she called, catching Josh's little body as it thudded into her. Mer's was next, accompanied by its own verbal volley. This became an abrupt silence as soon as she caught sight of Edward, and then Jasper. She stared.

Josh kept exclaiming, "Man!"

"Who're they?" Mer whispered to Bella, eyes still wary on the strange men.

"This is Dr. Cullen and his brother Mr. Hale," Bella said. She repeated the introductions for Marsha, who nodded politely, and then began emptying the children's backpacks.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Meredith, Mr. Joshua," Jasper drawled while he returned Marsha's nod

"Man!" Joshua said, bouncing up and down. He ran from the room and came back with two trucks. He handed one to Edward, looking at him hopefully.

"Do you need me to take care of anything else, Bella?" Marsha asked, hanging Josh's backpack by the door.

"No, we're good, thank you," Bella said. Marsha said her goodbyes, and Bella watched her departure with mixed feelings.

"You talk funny," Meredith was saying to Jasper.

Bella's head whipped around, and her face flushed. "Mer, that's rude. Mr. Hale has an accent. He's from the Southern US."

"Oh, like Mrs. Cho," Meredith said, nodding, as if understanding.

Joshua had pulled Edward down to his level, where they were driving the trucks over the lines of the wooden floor. "Vroom!" Joshua was saying, mouth working hard over the tricky consonants. He stared at Edward. "Man, vroom!"

Bella's ears perked up. It was so rare to hear him put two words so closely together.

"Can you say my name?" Edward asked him, flicking his gaze over to Bella, and then back to her son. "Edward."

Joshua shook his head. "Man."

This elicited a snort from Jasper. "You're the man, Edward."

Bella didn't laugh.

"We should go," Edward said. "I'm sure Bella has things to do." Then to Joshua, he said, "We can play next time, okay?"

Josh pouted, but didn't whine, and Bella released a shaky slip of air at this tiny reprieve.

As the men donned their shoes and coats, Jasper nodded his farewell and stepped outside, leaving Edward to have a final word with Bella. "We'll be nearby. If you still want answers, let me know."

"I will, after they're in bed," she said, avoiding direct eye contact, only looking up when she heard the door click shut behind him.

\- 0 -

Her pregnancy was becoming more apparent in its symptoms, and she'd struggled to get the children to bed without falling asleep herself. Joshua had refused to stay in his playpen, insisting on crawling into her bed. She had tucked pillows around him before leaving him to sleep, hoping they kept him from falling out of it. Like Bella, he was an agile sleeper, and she'd woken up more than once with his toes up her nose when they shared a bed.

She'd already hopped in the bath with Josh, so she had her own pajamas on. They had been a gift from Matt: a simple cotton jersey set of blue shorts, with a matching spaghetti-strap top. He'd laughed and called them Bella lingerie. They were hardly that, but they were comfortable. She felt warm—another sign of the pregnancy—and couldn't be bothered to put a robe on over top.

She decided Edward could see her that way too. It wasn't like it would bother him.

He knocked almost immediately after she messaged him.

Bella deployed her verbal armour as she opened the door. "Did you decide that windows were passe? Up there with watching people sleep?"

He raised his eyebrows a bit. "It was hardly respectful then, and I didn't think you'd find it so now."

"Are you coming in?" she asked levelly, ignoring what had sounded very close to an apology.

He did, a wary look in his eyes.

She settled into the corner of one of the two sofas in the living room, then watched Edward make his own choice. When he selected the opposite end of the same sofa, perching just on the edge, she felt a flutter of satisfaction, and was immediately annoyed with herself.

Her internal reprimand was instant: don't be an idiot. You're so chock full of pregnancy hormones you wouldn't know a real emotion if it walked up to you and smacked you on the head. Edward's here to make good on a promise to let you be. And you can go right back to falling apart over your husband's death as soon as this business is taken care of.

Suitably self-chastised, she launched into her first question. "Have you told me everything you know about Victoria?"

"The basics, but not everything. What do you want to know?"

"She was wounded badly, from what I could tell. How—?"

"We heal, but slowly. Parts of our bodies will regenerate, but it takes a very long time. That's why all the pieces need to be burned, for things to be final. Apparently, that's not what happened."

"And she's had enough time to . . . regenerate?" The idea was horrifying.

"Yes," he said nodding. There was more in his tight jawline.

"What?" she asked.

"If the wolves had told us, we could have made certain of her ending."

"You left," she said, frowning. "No one knew how to reach you."

His scowl deepened, but then he nodded, and his passive mask returned.

"Is there more that I need to know about her? About anything she's done, or you think might do?"

"Could you be more specific?"

"What the hell, Edward? DId you go to law school, too? Just answer the damn question!"

She was on her feet now, arms folded awkwardly over her cast, glaring at him. Her breasts were tender from the pressure her posture put against them, but she stubbornly held her stance, waiting.

"She killed your husband."

Her breath came out as a whuffed, "Wha—?" the rest of it taken by a sob. Her arms fell to her sides and she sat down, blinking rapidly, her stomach sinking. "But—how—? I saw his body. He—"

"The car crash was real. We caught her scent on the wreck."

"You were here," she whispered. "When he died. You could have—you could have warned me." The depth of his betrayal was sickening. "You let him die. You—"

"No. I didn't. We didn't know she'd go after him," he said, his expression fierce. "I would never hurt you that way. _Eve_r."

"What fucking planet do you live on?" she hissed at him, incredulous, "That you could even make that claim . . . You _left_ me, and you knew, you fucking _knew_ when everyone thought that I was insane, that I wasn't. Then you found out she was back and after my family and you let my husband die before you said anything to warn us—!"

"I PROMISED YOU!" He shouted, and then stopped himself. When he spoke again, his voice was several decibels softer, though not lacking in fervour. "I _promised_ you would never see me again. And if I'd known, if I had even suspected she wanted to hurt you, that she would come here, I never would have left!"

"Why? So you could stay and enjoy your _distraction_?" The last word was spat out, as she pointed to herself.

She watched conflicting emotions play across Edward's face. He seemed to swallow hard before he answered her, his voice still quiet. "I lied, Bella. I never stopped loving you. I lied so that you would let me go and wouldn't come after me. So I could strip all the monsters from your life. _All of them._" His voice cracked over the words. "I just never expected you to believe the lie so easily."

A brief period of silence stretched between them, marked only by the now-audible ticks of her watch.

"We didn't know she would go after Matt. Alice only saw—" Edward put his head in his hands, a gesture so despairingly human that she briefly fought the urge to console him. "She only saw what she would do to you and your children. We came right away, once we knew. We were following all of you, but Victoria must have known about Alice, because her decisions changed that day. We had moved to protect you and the children but Matt . . . " His voice trailed off and he was still looking down into his lap.

Bella watched him as he spoke, her mind struggling to make sense of what he was saying as memories and emotions clouded her brain.

Edward looked haggard when his eyes again met hers. "You were right. I have done nothing but fail you, which is why I will do everything I can to make sure I don't do it again."

There was a small whimper on the stairs. The lightest of her sleepers, Josh was standing by the door, his blanket in one hand, stuffed pig in the other. The sound was high-pitched. It was the kind that preceded a meltdown.

"Hey, hey," she said, breaking out of her near-trance and walking to him to pick him up. "Sorry. We were too loud. I'm so sorry we woke you up."

For once, Josh didn't acknowledge Edward, burying his head in Bella's chest.

"I need to tell you more. About your son," Edward said. He sounded almost hoarse. "I promised I would tell you everything I knew."

"Okay," Bella said, this time with much more uncertainty. Her head was already spinning.

She carried Joshua back to the living room, her arms tight around his little form. Sitting back on the sofa, she wrapped him in his blanket, tucking him against her chest.

This time, Edward directed his words to her boy. "You're special, Josh. You know that, right? That people don't always understand you?"

Josh nodded, peeking at Edward from the nest of his mother's lap.

"I'm kind of special, too. I can hear people in a different way. I can hear what they're thinking. I think you know you can't tell people that. Right?" Edward watched Joshua, whose gaze was just as scrutinous. "No, not even Meredith."

His little head nodded again, this time more erectly, more solemnly.

"I've heard thoughts like yours before. They're different from most people. Not better, not worse, just different. Sometimes people call that Autism."

Bella had suspected it, deep down, but never named it, and now she experienced the additional grief that came with the confirmation. She didn't doubt Edward's diagnosis. What better way to know, than to be able to hear a mind and its workings?

Edward looked at Bella, and she nodded, keeping her mouth closed and her feelings in check.

She could cry later, when Josh couldn't hear.

"No," Edward smiled a little. "Sorry, I don't think you'll be able to read minds."

Joshua didn't nod, but pressed his head harder into Bella's chest. His fingers dug into the fabric of her shirt, yanking it lower.

When Bella tried to loosen his grip, Josh squawked his displeasure, pulling at her flimsy top down even more. She was sweating, and not only from the added heat of his body.

Edward had at least averted his eyes.

"You tired, sweetie?" she whispered to Josh.

She got a heavy blink in response.

"Can Mama put you back in Mama's bed?"

Another blink, this one less resistant than the last.

She stood carefully, Edward suddenly beside her before she could understand why. Then the dizziness hit. His arms were a cold cradle around her, and she stiffened.

This was all too much.

"No," she said. "Put me down."

"Can I put him back to bed for you, then?"

She took in a tight breath, releasing it slowly, before answering. "If he'll let you."

Joshua had reached the ultimate rag-doll stage of toddler sleep. His only response was a sleepy but contented, "Man," as Edward carried him.

Bella focused on breathing as she followed them up the stairs. She pulled air in through her nose and pushed it out again, trying to keep herself contained by the predictable expansion and contraction of her lungs.

The layers of difficulty in her life had been manageable, but this last one needed to be just that—the last. She'd managed to keep going when Matt had died, then navigated the horror of Victoria's return, figured out how not to fall apart with Edward's appearance, and had even wrapped her head around the unplanned pregnancy. She'd also dealt with a new job, a broken hand, a car accident, and crap, she still hadn't paid the gas bill.

And now her son was Autistic.

And Edward said he had always loved her.

If there was a time when she wanted to hide and cower in the refuge of a psychotic diagnosis, it was now.

But she couldn't. So she kept focusing on the air moving in and out of her lungs, hoping that this small act of self-preservation was enough for the moment.

* * *

Author's Post-Script: For those of you want to know a bit more about the Autism spectrum, I've put up a short post about what 'being on the spectrum' actually means on my personal FB page (Erin Affleck), as well as up on my FB writer's page, FlamingMapleWrites. As a teacher of many, and parent of several children (a few of whom are on the spectrum) I can legitimately tell you that NO two Autistic people are the same.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	13. Friends

A/N for 2019-05-11: Beta'd by the amazing Eeyorefan12, who assures me this chapter *is* funny in parts. Hope it brings you a chuckle, too.

~ Erin

* * *

Edward kept his distance, as did Jasper. She hadn't seen either of them since a few days prior, the night Edward lobbed what she hoped were all the informational bombs he had at his disposal.

She felt entitled to a small bubble of denial. She would handle everything, but one thing at a time. Right now, being more than a warm body to her children and getting ahead at work were the only two areas for which she had energy.

Therefore, it was with gritting reluctance that she'd agreed to see Matt's friends, Eric and Jan, for a lunch date.

And they were definitely Matt's friends. Not hers.

Matt and Eric had been college roommates, two strangers to Seattle, and both from very different backgrounds. Eric was a stalwart church-goer, Matt an easy-going agnostic. They'd formed a vibrant friendship that had survived Eric's whirlwind romance with, and then marriage to, Jan.

Like Eric, Jan was a fervent Christian. But where Eric leaned towards the loving side of his faith, Jan tipped in the opposite direction, verbally expressing displeasure for anything she considered a sin. Age had tempered her a little, but not to the point where Bella could imagine ever having a friendship with her, based on its own merits.

And while the couple had always been kind to Matt and Bella, and their kids, Bella frequently had the nagging suspicion that they disapproved of her in some way. Neither of them had ever said anything about her psychosis, but she didn't doubt they knew about it. Matt and Eric had been best friends long before Bella entered the picture.

One thing that had often irked Bella had been Eric and Jan's attitude towards Bella and Matt's parenting abilities—Eric and Jan seemed less than impressed by them. Though childless, the phrase, "When _we're _parents" littered Jan's commentary whenever she was in Bella's—and especially, _Josh's_ presence.

For Matt's sake, Bella had kept her eyerolls to a minimum whenever this occurred.

She wasn't sure if she could hold that line today.

Matt had been one of the most tolerant people Bella had ever met. His kindness and willingness to believe in people—even messed-up ones like herself, had been one of the things that had endeared him to her the most.

So when Jan had texted, asking if they could bring lunch on Saturday, she'd taken a good long look at Joshua before replying. She had wondered if they'd be able to take a hint about leaving if things started to go sideways when nap time approached.

She doubted it and teetered towards saying no. Then she remembered her promise to Charlie. She'd told him she would see friends. So she'd punched in a misspelled 'yass' before she could change her mind.

After a brief trip to the neighbourhood park Saturday morning, specifically for the kids to wear off any excess energy, Bella rushed Meredith and Joshua home. She found herself huffing and puffing behind the stroller, trying to get back in time to get Josh a quick bath and a snack. As with most park outings, he had found the largest puddle there and planted himself in it, spending the rest of their time there dragging around a squishy diaper wrapped in sodden clothes. He'd refused to let Bella change him.

"Please let them be understanding," she mumbled, thumping the stroller wheels up the backstairs.

Josh squealed in delight. He loved the jarring movement and had shrieked in protest when she'd tried to get him to walk up instead. Bella had strong arms, but hefting both the stroller's weight and her child's up the steps was a strain on her one good arm.

"Okay little dude, bath time. Then our friends are coming over, 'K?"

"Bath-time!" he sang.

Meredith busied herself at the table, papers and crayons out, describing to no one in particular an elaborately artistic plan involving ponies, a monkey, and birthday cake.

Bella called out occasional encouragement to Mer as she tried to rush—and not rush, Josh through his bath. This too was a fine balance, negotiated with all the finesse she could muster while dealing with an unpredictable almost two-year-old.

"Splash!" he said, delighting in demonstrating this action to Bella.

"Yes, splash!" Bella tried to enthuse, stepping back and reaching for a towel.

Then the doorbell rang.

"Oh God, do you have to be early?" Bella muttered, looking at her watch. Plastering a smile on her face, she forced a chipper note into her voice. "Alright Josh. Looks like our friends are here. Why don't we dry off and go see them?"

"No," he said, "Splash!"

She dabbed uselessly at the most obvious water spots on her shirt as she dashed to the door, yanking it open as the second round of knocks started. Eric and Jan stood on the porch, neatly dressed in crisp chinos and pressed pastel shirts. Both were holding casserole dishes. They looked like they'd just walked out of a Lands End catalogue.

"Hey you," Eric said, smiling.

"Hey yourself. Gotta-kid-in-the-bath-come-on-in," Bella rushed out, and then ran back to the bathroom.

Halfway into the dining room, she slipped in a small stream of water that was now flowing out of the bathroom and landed hard on her backside. A fresh cloud of drywall dust added insult to injury, settling on top of her, as she briefly cursed the unfinished renovations again. Smacking the towel down in the water, Bella struggled up and made it to the bathroom. "Stop!" she called to Josh, who was bailing water from the tub with a cup and gleefully pouring it on the floor

He finished emptying out the cup he was holding with a good natured, "All done!" and then smiled brightly at her.

"Water stays in the tub, Josh," she said, trying not to clench her teeth. "Okay?"

If he heard or understood, she had no idea. He was humming happily as he climbed from the tub, and let Bella towel him off with his sister's towel. When he was dry enough, she threw this onto the rest of the river outside in the hall. "Our friends are here. Let's go get you some clothes."

"No!" he said, and then bolted for the living room.

"Hey!" Bella heard Eric call out. It sounded friendly enough but, as she rounded the corner, she saw that the friendly tone ended with his voice. His eyebrows were raised in a shocked expression.

Josh was oblivious. He was too busy showing off all his new words from the week.

"Pee," he said, pointing to his private parts.

Jan's cheeks were a mottled red, and she studied the empty walls.

"Uh, yeah," Bella said. "Come on. Let's go find your dragon costume. And a diaper."

His face lit up. "Dwagon!"

When she'd finished wrangling Josh into a diaper and his now perilously-small dragon costume, Bella made it back to the kitchen, wiping her hand across her face. Eric and Jan looked calmer and were loudly admiring Meredith's drawing.

Well thank fucking God, Bella thought.

Jan had been busy. The plates had been pulled out and the casseroles sat on the island.

"Thank you," Bella said, appreciating the help. Just getting food together was challenge enough. She was legitimately grateful that they'd gone to the trouble of bringing lunch.

"Missed you," Jan said, standing up and giving her a hug.

"You too," Bella answered politely. She hadn't, but she figured widowhood permitted a little elasticity with the truth. Then there was a guilty twinge. Matt would've been able to let the truth roll off his tongue, without it making anyone feel uncomfortable. His ability to be both kind and truthful had made him easy to be around. She wished she could be at ease with them, just for his sake.

"How're things?" Jan asked.

"Oh, fine," Bella said, doubting that Jan expected an honest answer. She briefly thought about how nice it would be to have close friends she could share with, who could listen to her worries and understand. Although Eric and Jan were making an effort, they could never relate to her life situation, not to mention the supernatural aspects of it. No, it had been a very long time since she'd had friends around her who could.

Jacob had been that last friend, and before that—

"What happened?" Eric asked, lifting his chin in the direction of her cast. "No one told you they don't do corporal punishment here in schools?" He winked and chuckled at his joke, and Jan joined him.

"Ha-ha, uh, no. Just me being clumsy." She forced a smile, which almost became genuine when she pictured their faces if she had told the truth about the circumstances behind her broken hand.

"And what's up with you, little man?" Jan asked Josh.

"Man!" Josh said excitedly, standing up on his tippy-toes. The wings on his costume flapped with the movement.

Bella stiffened. She wasn't sure if he was just excited to talk about his new and favourite topic or if he was expecting Edward to magically appear.

But no. He surprised her on both fronts.

"Man!" He repeated. Then he pointed to Bella. "Mama!" And then, added, "Bed!" And as if those three words together weren't enough, Josh picked up the two trucks he and Edward had played with and banged them together loudly. "Play!"

Everyone stared. Including Meredith.

Part of her wanted to weep with joy. He'd used four words together. Sort of.

Mostly, though, she wanted some natural disaster to absolve her from the need to explain that those four words did not mean what Matt's friends clearly thought they did.

"Uh . . ." Eric said.

Jan stared wordlessly at Josh, then at Bella, and then at the floor. After an uncomfortable pause, she mumbled, "I'll just get lunch ready."

It was the fastest lunch they'd ever had together.

Bella suspected it just might be the last.

Josh went full dragon, roaring every time he took a bite of food.

By the time Eric and Jan left, casserole dishes in hand and promises of return visits that wouldn't happen, Bella felt like there wasn't an inch of room left inside her to experience another emotion known to humankind.

She shut the front door and then turned her back to it, sliding down slowly until her sore ass hit the floor.

"And that, kids," she muttered, too quietly for the children to hear, "is why mommy doesn't want to see 'friends'."

She sat there for a few minutes with her eyes closed until she heard Josh trotting in her direction, taking her unguarded posture as an invitation to attempt to jump into her lap. Too exhausted to move, she curled up instead, hands crossed protectively over her head, as Josh continued his attempts to infiltrate her defenses.

"Bella?" a woman's voice called.

Bella snapped her head up, just as Josh's head caught her hard in the chin, and registered the sight of Alice Cullen standing in her living room.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	14. Friendship

A/N for 2019-05-12: Many thanks for Eeyorefan12 for beta-ing.

I think my favourite comment on the last chapter referred to Jan and Eric as "the pastel parade." Indeed. I can (cough) write Jan so well because I *was* exactly like that before my own children arrived. In fact, my brother's line to expectant parents (myself included) was, "I want you to enjoy being perfect parents now, because as soon as your kid arrives, you're going to realize how much of a screw-up you are at parenting, just like the rest of us." Boy did I learn that the hard way (hence, the delightful character of Josh!).

Happy reading!

Erin

* * *

Sitting up straight, Bella snatched Joshua to her. "What's wrong?" she asked Alice. "Is something—"

"Everything's fine," Alice said. "I was just—I was worried about you."

Bella let her body slump back against the door and tried to reduce herself to the air moving in and out of her body and the little boy in her arms

Her efforts were unsuccessful.

Josh squirmed out of her arms, calling out, "Mer!", and running off to find his sister. Bella stood, wanting to be ready to manage any coming disaster he might precipitate.

Underneath her sense of foreboding for today's visit with Jan and Eric had been a longing she'd been trying to deny, but it, like Josh, had squirmed out of where she'd kept it. Quite simply: she was hurting. She was lonely, and all she wanted was the comfort of a friend.

"Alice," she choked out, and opened her arms to move towards her. The hug was a long one, and the sobs that came from Bella were mirrored in Alice's smaller form.

"I missed you so much," they each finally said, laughing.

"I can still barely believe you're here," Bella added, her voice hoarse with emotion.

"And I'm not going anywhere," Alice replied in the matter-of-fact style she remembered

Bella's smile faltered. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Alice grabbed Bella's hand, pulling her towards the couch. "I mean it. I'm not. We're not. We listened to Edward the first time, and look what happened there." Her friend frowned with these words, looking around, and Bella snorted out a reluctant laugh.

"Yeah, Bella's psychotic, broke her hand punching a ghost, and got herself knocked up at the worst possible time. And my God, look at how she's living." She swept her hand around the room.

"That is not what I meant," Alice said, in all seriousness, and then smirked. "Although, your clothing sense was always terrible."

It felt good to laugh, but she wanted to cry too.

"You _did _leave, though. Before," Bella said, her voice soft. It wasn't an accusation, just a fact that still hurt.

"I'm sorry," Alice said, just as quietly. She squeezed Bella's hand.

Bella squeezed hers back.

Joshua skipped back into the room at this point, roaring as he'd done for their other guests. He jumped onto Bella's lap.

"But I got dragon couture down," Bella chuckled.

Alice laughed. She reached out to finger the green material of Josh's costume. "Hi," she said softly.

"Rawr!" Josh answered.

"This is Alice," Bella said. "She's my friend."

Josh poked Alice's hand with a finger. "Man?" he asked.

Bella was surprised at how quickly he'd noticed the similarities between the two. "Alice is Edward's sister." Despite having had practise in saying his name over the last few weeks, it felt strange on her lips.

"Man," Josh corrected her.

"Yes," Bella sighed heavily, as Alice giggled. "She's 'Man's' sister."

Without acknowledging Bella's words, Joshua slithered his little dragon self away again.

"He's gorgeous," Alice said, eyeing his disappearing form shrewdly.

"Oh, don't even think about it," Bella said, her pride swelling a little. Josh _was_ beautiful, and not just because he was her son. Both he and Meredith had inherited her pale skin, and Matt's curly red hair, albeit in much darker shades. Josh's fiery curls looked like spun copper in the sunlight. It made finding him when he got lost—and that was often—easier.

"Mer, do you want to come meet my friend, Alice?" Bella called.

There was a scrape of a chair pushing away from the table. "Look, Mama," Meredith said, "I finished." She held her picture out proudly.

"You're an artist!" Alice exclaimed.

Bella whipped her head to face her, eyes narrowing. "As in, you see—"

"As in I have eyes," Alice said, frowning at Bella. "Look at what she's done!"

Bella did, but she had no frame of reference for other children's art. Meredith loved to draw. It was almost all she did.

"Okay," Bella said quietly. She hadn't considered what Alice's gift might mean for her children. Some things she wanted to remain unknown.

But Alice was lost, busy admiring in professional tones the way Meredith had articulated the lines of people and the space around them. "Do you have more paper?" Alice asked.

Meredith nodded, clearly awed by Alice and the serious interest her words revealed. Bella followed them back to the kitchen,where Alice sat with Meredith and began teaching her how to extend the skills she'd already shown.

Art 101 clearly in progress, Bella watched her little dragon skip less energetically back into the room. His "Rawr," was softer this time and punctuated with a reluctant yawn.

"I know exactly how you feel," she empathised.

Alice caught her eye and gave her a dismissive wave. "Go. Enjoy your nap," Alice said. "Meredith and I have work to do."

Meredith wiggled excitedly in her seat.

A wave of irritation washed over Bella at being brushed aside. Despite considering Alice a friend, she _had _ left with the rest of the Cullens all those years ago. Now it seemed she expected just to walk right back into Bella's life, into her _children's _lives . . .

"Sorry," Alice said immediately, looking abashed. She sighed. "I get lost in the future. I am . . . trying to stay more in the present, and make up for the past."

Bella let herself breathe a little deeper, watching Alice, whose remorse was clear on her face.

Josh yawned more loudly, starting to wobble precariously as he wandered through the kitchen. She really did need to put him down for a nap.

And she was really tired.

She decided that she could deal with her emotions later.

"Okay, but wake me up if you need anything." Then to Mer, she added, "I'll just be upstairs with Josh, alright?"

Alice nodded, and Mer gave an inattentive, "Uh-huh," looking instead to Alice, who followed her gaze, commenting on her work.

It was almost three when Bella woke, Josh just stirring beside her.

She felt like a new person.

A new but very sore person, she amended. Fingering her jaw lightly, she was sure there was a new bruise there, and her back and neck protested weakly as she sat up. Her hand ached less than yesterday, but still enough to make her take notice. Dang, she'd managed to sleep on it again. Making her way carefully down the stairs, she heard Meredith and Alice talking excitedly. About dresses.

"Oh God," she muttered.

They were in the den. Alice had somehow located Bella's small sewing kit and was deftly repairing Meredith's favourite princess dress. It had been in the mending box for the better part of six months—the average stay for most fabric inmates before they were pardoned into the Goodwill bag.

"Thank you," Bella said to Alice.

"No problem. We've had fun. Okay, Mer, here you go," she said, neatly snapping the thread.

With an excited squeal, Meredith scrambled to put on the teal dress, and exclaimed, "I'm a princess again!"

Bella tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Oh, come on," Alice chided her. "There is no harm in dressing up like a princess."

Bella had many things to say in response to this, but decided they could wait until later.

"I think," Bella told Mer, "Josh is probably ready to be woken up. Maybe you guys can get a popsicle together?"

Mer dashed off, feet pounding up the stairwell.

"They're not really popsicles," Bella said. "Just frozen fruit and yogurt."

"Like I'd judge you," Alice said, sticking the needle neatly into a spool of thread.

"No, I guess not." Bella took the kit and put it back on the shelf. She let her hand rest there, thinking before speaking again. "Why did you come today, Alice?"

Alice's expression wilted. "I was worried about you."

"You said that before. Why?"

The sound of Joshua and Meredith returning down the stairs, and quickly disappearing into the kitchen, interrupted them.

"No, no, just one Josh. I'll help. Wait." Meredith's voice was full of older-sister importance.

Joshua busied himself with awkward hopping and shouting, "Popsicle!"

Peeking around the corner from the den and seeing all was well, Bella turned back to Alice. "Well?"

"I saw the outcome of a choice. A very brief one. It frightened me."

Bella flexed an eyebrow. It _had _been very brief—but the thought had been real in the moment. "I'm assuming, since the younger _Doctor_ Cullen hasn't come charging in, that he doesn't know."

"I told him not to do anything," Alice said.

"And he listened to you?" Bella asked drily.

"Emmett and Jasper made him." Now the corner of her lip was hitched up.

Bella snorted. "Good old Emmett."

Alice's tone sobered and Bella could hear a tremble in her voice. "You can't do that, Bella. You can't—"

"You don't get to tell me anything, Alice. Nothing. Not an inch of direction about what I do with my life." She was angry now, as much at the invasion of her privacy as she was at the proposed interference, and her voice bore a steely note. "Not that I would, because I would never do that to my children, or my Dad, or any of the people who have actually been there for me."

Alice looked down, her posture full of contrition. She sighed, but finally nodded and said very quietly. "I'm glad to hear that . . . and you're absolutely right." After smoothing away some invisible speck on her trousers, Alice spoke again. "The rest of the family would like to see you and meet your children."

Well, Bella thought, wouldn't that be a lovely fan-fucking-tastic reunion? After the initial bitterness faded, she contemplated the reasons for this. She was sure practicality was foremost. Mer and Joshua needed to know the Cullens if they were to protect them. Introductions were in order on that front, but she suspected that fence-mending was on the agenda too.

Though probably not with Rosalie.

"I'm sure Rose isn't interested, and I don't really want to go through any pained introductions with the kids."

"Actually, it was Rose who suggested it. She wants to meet them."

"Rose does?" Bella asked, frowning in incredulity.

"Very much."

"Guess the pigs are flying today," she muttered.

"We've missed you, Bella," Alice said, face and voice all earnestness.

Bella's own features twisted, and she fought to keep the hurt from collapsing her fragile control. "Okay," she said. "But not here. I need to be able to . . . leave, if I—if I need to."

"Sure. We were wondering if you'd consider coming tonight?"

She hadn't expected that. Practical reasons, she told herself, fending off the 'no' she wanted to shove at Alice. Safety for your children, she told herself..

"Okay." She ran through the list of things she'd need to do before then.

"I can help," Alice said, a little more animatedly.

"What? Oh, right," Bella said, realizing Alice must be looking at her afternoon. "Wait, really? You're going to clean the kitty litter?" It was the worst of the chores, and she fully expected Alice to wrinkle her nose.

"Absolutely," Alice said bravely. "Good friends aren't afraid to take their friend's . . . cat's crap."

Snorting out a laugh, Bella moved towards the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher. They worked at the several tasks, Bella catching glimpses of Alice speeding through things when she knew the children weren't watching.

It was with much more apprehension that she herded the children into the car, listening to Alice's directions to the Cullen's new home.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	15. Reintroductions

A/N for 2019-05-15: Profound thanks Eeyorefan12 for the incredible work that she puts into this story - here, and in many other chapters. Both of us have enjoyed reading and contemplating the insights you offer on this narrative.

Erin

* * *

The drive to the new house was only twenty minutes long, but required precise instructions from Alice, riding shotgun, for Bella to find the turns she would have missed on her own.

"Just here," Alice said, gesturing to the near-hidden entrance at the end of the dirt road.

The private driveway wasn't long, but it coiled tightly around so that, when the house appeared, it was a surprise. The deep green paint made the structure appear to be an extension of the forest surrounding them. She couldn't tell if it was just old, or new and made to look old. Its simple lines were a series of inverted V's, each gable accented with a window, all of them warmly-lit against the twilight.

No one was waiting outside.

Opening her own door, Bella helped Meredith and then Josh out of the car. When he pulled his hand away, she snatched it back, murmuring a quiet, "Just stay with mommy for now, okay?"

"No!" he protested, and squirmed away again, dashing off in the direction of a creek she could see just beyond the house

Bella started to give chase, but stopped when another shape suddenly appeared ahead of Josh.

"Man!" her son squeaked, as Edward squatted down in front of him.

"I know you want to see the water," Edward said to him, "but your mother is worried about you. Can you go ask her first?"

Bella pointed her eyes at Josh. He looked back at her imploringly while he leaned against Edward's chest. It made for such a sweet picture, she felt herself smile at the two of them.

"You can go with him, if you want," she said.

With a solemn nod, Edward stood and held out his hand to Josh, who happily placed his smaller one in it.

Her heart ached a little as she watched them walk away together. With Matt gone, Josh seemed to have found comfort in his growing connection with Edward. She realized that, without even thinking about it, she had entrusted Edward with her son's safety. Could she trust him not to break Josh's heart as he had hers?

Meredith's voice was already growing distant, her chatter mingled with Alice's as they walked together towards the house.

"Bella?" A familiar voice called behind her.

Turning around, she found Esme and Carlisle standing a few feet away, hands linked together. They looked as nervous as she supposed vampires could look.

Bella suddenly wished she had a hand to hold, too. "Hi," she said weakly, giving a silly little wave. She hadn't been sure what this moment would feel like but awkward had definitely been in the running. She waited for the swell of anger that she had also expected because, if there was ever a good time to unload all the heartache she'd felt over the years because of the Cullens, this would have been it.

But the anger didn't come. Instead, all she could hear were Edward's words to her a few days before. _They want to see you, Bella. . . The choice to leave was mine._

Her indecision must have been clearly written on her face because Esme slowly pulled her hand away from Carlisle's and moved towards her, wrapping her in a tentative hug.

It was so easy to lean into the embrace—and to return it.

"We missed you so much," Esme whispered.

Bella closed her eyes and tried to stay in control of the emotions having their way with her body. "I missed you too."

She realized, all of a sudden, how true it was. The little voice that had been telling her that this visit was a mistake and that she wasn't ready to forgive grew quiet. She could almost feel the resistance draining from her, eclipsed by the tears that welled up as she turned her embrace towards Carlisle.

"Come inside," Esme whispered. "Alice and Meredith have already gone in." She smiled at Bella, taking her arm in her own. "Oh Bella, she looks like you."

"She does?" Bella asked, a little surprised. She had always thought Mer was a small copy of Matt. Coming in through the front door, Bella took in the open, honey-coloured wood interior. It was at such odds with the exterior's dark promises. Set off in the corner by the window, Alice and Meredith were bent over a table, some mysterious project between them.

"She does," Esme said, smiling at her broadly. "The shape of her face. The way her forehead wrinkles when she's concentrating. Look."

Bella did. She'd always seen so much of Matt in the kids. So did everyone else. There was some of her there, though, as she watched. But Mer's smile, which she gave widely to Alice—that was all her father.

Blinking her eyes rapidly. Bella congratulated herself on keeping her feelings in check. Then she caught Jasper's figure moving down the hallway towards them.

Of course, she thought. Be sensible. You can barely watch car commercials without bursting into tears.

"Thanks," she mumbled in his direction

Jasper nodded, and smiled a little, not coming close, but moving in Alice's direction. He settled a little ways away from the two of them on one of the living room's several couches.

Then Meredith picked up a fresh piece of paper, chattering happily to Alice, and Bella watched her little hand move to slide down the edge of it.

She knew she shrieked. She also knew she'd made an unwise dive in the direction of the living room, because she tripped on the throw carpet there.

Strong hands caught her, breaking her fall and helping her regain her balance.

"She's okay," Edward said, releasing her. "She's fine, see?" He looked at Meredith, who was staring, wide-eyed, at her mother and Edward.

Bella's entire body felt frozen, but she made herself look.

Meredith's fingers pinched the edge of the blank page. "I'm using the whole page," she said nervously. "I'm not wasting the paper, Mama."

"Of course," Bella answered, flinching internally. Whether or not there was a reason for it, she could not react that way in front of her daughter. She moved slowly, steadying her shaking hands as she walked over. "Sorry, Mer I just—I thought you were going to cut yourself."

"Excuse me," Jasper murmured, standing up and walking out of the room. A moment later, she heard the front door open and close again.

Bella cringed internally. But only a little.

Alice's eyes followed her husband, but she stayed where she was and turned her attention back to Meredith.

"I'll be careful," Meredith said seriously.

"Of course you will," Alice said, her voice low and soothing.

Meredith nodded, and Bella whispered, "Okay."

Edward had backed away, and Bella turned, trying to calm herself by finding Josh. He was there, soaked, delightedly jumping up and down once she spotted him. "Shoot," she said, feeling her much more accustomed sense of maternal mortification return, "What happened?"

"Water!" he squealed excitedly, as it splattered over the carpet. Edward looked a little sheepish but apparently thought Josh's explanation had been sufficient and remained quiet.

Carlisle appeared, a large towel in hand. "Did you find our creek?" he asked Joshua.

Josh nodded excitedly. "Man—Water!" He flapped his hands excitedly.

A little smile crept up on Bella's face at these two consecutive words, as she tried to dry him off. At least he hadn't paired 'man' with 'bed' and 'play' this time. "I need to get your clothes from the car."

"Why don't I do that?" Carlisle asked. "You go sit. There's some tea in the kitchen. And maybe something some smaller people might like, if it's mother-approved."

Once Bella handed him her keys, Carlisle disappeared, and Esme gestured towards the other side of the house.

The kitchen too, was spacious, but set up to feature several cozy pockets of chairs and wide windows that took in a view of the forest and the not-so-distant waves of the cove. An old wood-burning fireplace sat at the back wall, and Bella kept a fierce grip on Josh's hand until she could see that it wasn't lit.

"Something wrong?" Esme asked, noticing the direction of her gaze

"No, just—fires. Josh hasn't figured out they're dangerous yet."

"I understand. Can I get him something warm to drink? Milk?" She made sure she had Bella's eyes before she mouthed the words, "Hot chocolate?"

"Oh yes, I think you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Bella said, smiling at Josh. He smiled back, but there was a question on his little brow. "Hot chocolate?"

"Choc-lit!"

Edward had joined them silently, leaning casually against a wall near the entranceway. It was an unusual stance for him. When Carlisle reappeared, Bella saw a glance pass between them. No one else reacted, so she let herself relax, trusting she could let her guard down.

"Thanks, Carlisle," Bella said, taking her bag.

"Car-l—," Josh attempted.

"Yes," Bella said, trying not to overreact with excitement. "That's Carlisle." Looking at Esme, she said, "And that's Esme."

Josh ignored her, pawing through the bag. "Jamas!"

"Yeah, let's go get you changed," she agreed, wondering if she could nudge him towards a set of clothes instead. It was early for night wear.

Josh shook his head. He pressed the pajamas into Carlisle's hands. "Car-i." He shoved for emphasis.

"You want me to help you?"

More pushing.

Carlisle's eyebrows went up. "Well, certainly. Let's go get you dressed." He looked at Bella, seeking her permission.

She bit her lip. Had Carlisle even dressed a child before? Did he know anything about diapers?

Before she could respond, Esme chuckled. "I'll come for logistical support," she said, and then to Carlisle, "I think it's been a while since you helped a little person get dressed."

"And you're so much more recently experienced?" Bella heard him tease back.

"By several hundred years," Esme quipped softly.

Then Bella was alone with Edward.

"That was so well-orchestrated, you'd almost think it was planned." She lifted an eyebrow speculatively.

His posture stiffened and he straightened up.

"I know it wasn't," she added quickly. "Trust me, anyone who can get Josh to cooperate is welcome to do it. It's luck of the draw to get him to change clothes, unless it's his idea." She spread the damp towel out over the back of one of the chairs and sat back down again.

"Can I get you some tea?" he asked, having moved to the counter. Moved closer to her.

She wanted to make a show of rolling her eyes to let him know she was unaffected, but it would've been a lie. He could hear her heartbeat, anyway, so what was the point? She was finally accepting that his physical nearness was going to continue to affect her, as it had so long ago. She was just going to have to ignore it as well as she could. "Thank you, no."

He put down the cup he'd picked up.

"But I wouldn't mind some more answers."

"Of course," he said, letting his eyes settle on her briefly. A few steps brought him closer still and he claimed a chair within arm's reach.

Not that she was going to reach for him, she reminded herself.

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

His jaw tightened. "I explained this already."

"I'd like to hear it without being yelled at."

His shoulders had already slumped a bit, and now they seemed to curl in a little more. His elbows were resting on his knees. "I left so you would be safe. I knew our presence would only attract more of our kind, and it was difficult enough to protect you even without that."

Bella nodded, though not easily. She was still trying to grasp his reasoning. "And that's why you stayed away for so long?"

"Yes." His voice sounded hollow.

There was so much more buried beneath that one word. She had to take a breath to steady herself before she spoke again. "And you told me you didn't—" God, if the words didn't still stick. "You didn't love me, because you wanted me to move on."

"Yes."

She watched him move his hands to his knees and rub them, wondering what the forces involved were when the fabric strained under his touch.

"You still cared about me."

"Cared?" he asked, stilling his hands but not looking at her. "I _loved_ you, Bella."

"Love?" she asked, voice husky. Her body trembled with emotion. "Love." She shook her head, or it shook itself. "You don't know what that is."

His head whipped up, eyes blazing.

"If you knew your absence would protect your children, or anyone you love, more than your presence, would you leave them?" he demanded.

Bastard, she thought.

She huffed out a breath. "Of course."

"Then I know what love is."

"But I wouldn't tell them I didn't love them before leaving for _ten years_." She struggled to suppress the tears of frustration that were threatening to fall. She didn't want even a tiny bit of his explanation to have merit.

"Wouldn't you? To free your children to love someone else as their mother, to accept that love without guilt? Painful as it would be?"

Before she could stop them, there were two hot rivers flowing down her cheeks.

She would. Absolutely.

And she'd fully expect them to hate her for it when she returned.

Or not want anything to do with her.

Fortunately, anger made for good company with grief, and it shoved back the things that were too difficult to feel. "You let people think I was nuts."

"If we hadn't, the Volturi would have resolved the issue to their satisfaction." Edward murmured. His gaze was fixed on her face but his eyes seemed focused somewhere beyond her.

"What does that even mean?" She remembered who the Volturi were, but beyond that, not much.

"They would've killed you, Bella. You and everyone else they thought knew the truth. We know, because they checked."

Her gaze snapped to his face.

He kept talking, but his voice held the tremor and weight of trauma. "Then they came to investigate us." He shook his head slightly, his shoulders curled in again. When she opened her mouth to ask what he meant, he cut her off. "Please don't ask me to speak about that."

Pressing her lips together, Bella took a deep breath in and let it out.

She had to ask this, even if she didn't want to know the answer.

"So you still—" she couldn't say the word. "Have feelings for me?"

His eyes, when they met hers this time, were still that mottled blend of honey and night. "I love you, Bella. That hasn't, and won't ever change."

She counted twelve breaths before she could speak again and, when she did, her words were halting as she struggled to say what she needed to.. "You told me before that, when a vampire . . . bonds with someone, then that's it. You said that I was that for you, like . . . you were addicted to me. You even compared yourself to an alcoholic . . . and a heroin addict. You said I was . . . special and that you would never want anyone else. But Edward, maybe that's not really love. Maybe that's just . . . something in your nature . . ."

She could read the denial on his face but he didn't interrupt or respond until she stopped speaking. His eyes rested on her for a moment before he spoke again.

"My nature," he murmured. "Yes, our natures are quite powerful, aren't they?" He smiled a bit, and then looked down at his folded hands.. "And if I told you that the love you felt for your children was just that—your nature, a mere biological connection—and nothing more, would you agree?"

She inhaled reflexively, readying a retort.

"No," he said gently, his eyes on hers again. "Of course you wouldn't. And I would never insult the love you have for your children by reducing it to that. I would also ask that you'd similarly not diminish what I feel for you."

She swallowed at the gentle rebuke and looked down at the immaculate floor, studying the tiles' unpredictable patterns. "What is it that you want?" she finally asked.

"Your safety and happiness."

She shook her head. "Not what you want for me. What do _you_ want?"

His answer was immediate. "What I've always wanted: You."

"Mommy, Mommy!" Meredith shrieked, "Look, look, look!" She raced into the kitchen dragging Alice behind her. Or rather, Alice allowed herself to be dragged. Both were beaming. For once, Bella wondered if Alice had been so firmly rooted in the present, she'd forgotten to be prescient.

"Oh," Bella said, trying to focus her eyes on the picture four inches from her face. "It's . . . beautiful, honey."

"No, LOOK!" Mer repeated. "It's a dress. See?" She pointed at it.

"Yes, it is," Bella agreed, once the image started to make sense.

"Alice is going to teach me how to sew. We're going to make it!" She jumped up and down, and then turned to face Alice. "Right now, right? We can get started?"

"Why not?" Alice said, grinning back.

Then they both dashed back out of the kitchen.

Bella felt unsettled, torn between the practicalities of motherhood and the intensity of feeling her conversation with Edward had invoked. Standing, she said, "I should—" Then she sat again, feeling the world spin unhelpfully.

"Put your head down," Edward instructed in what she now recognized as his doctor voice.

She did, listening to him make noises in the kitchen.

When he returned, a wave of nausea gripped her as she smelled the food he'd brought.

"No, thank you," she said, holding her palm out and up. When it met cold flesh, she retracted it.

There was a tinge of concern in his voice. "Your blood pressure's low right now. If you don't eat or drink, your sugar will drop too, and the nausea will be worse."

She stayed curled over herself, reluctant to unfold and open herself up in any way to the man in front of her.

Bella couldn't argue with his reasoning, though, and held out her hand, taking the glass that was put in it.

She sipped the juice slowly, still not trusting her reactions.

After a little bit, she sat up again, and the world stayed obligingly still.

"You should—"

"Don't," she said, cutting off whatever Edward was about to say.

A swell of diverse emotions rose up in her, each competing for the opportunity to be felt. She missed Matt in this moment. He'd been the one to walk her through the more miserable parts of her pregnancies, and there had been plenty of those. And while Edward hadn't done anything to earn more distrust, there was an ocean of it between them, and her mere drop of faith felt like a feeble boat to cross it in.

"Thank you for this," she added, lifting the cup. "And for taking care of my hand, but you're not my doctor, and I don't want you to be."

He frowned slightly at this, but nodded.

God, why did it have to bother her, that he seemed hurt by her choice?

"I usually get a midwife, anyway," she mumbled, "for my pregnancies."

"Of course," he said softly.

Bella took another sip of juice, fingers chilled around the cold tumbler. The notion of what Edward's hand would feel like in hers again flickered in her thoughts.

"You haven't asked me how I feel," she said. "About you."

"I've had no right to, Bella."

"Do you not want to know?" She saw a flicker of something cross his face as she asked, but he quickly controlled it.

"Of course I do," he whispered.

She looked down. " I think my feelings haven't changed as much as I thought."

Studying the floor, she couldn't see the expression on his face, but she heard his uncertainty. "Haven't changed, meaning—?"

Lifting her head, she held her gaze at the safe territory of the countertop. "Maybe love doesn't just disappear that easily."

She didn't hear him come to his knees in front of her. Instead, his face suddenly interrupted her view, both his hands surrounding her free one.

Bella jerked back in the chair with a croaked, "Please don't." She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden assault of feeling.

He let go as quickly as he'd gripped her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, replacing one form of tension with another.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She nodded dumbly, still shocked and stunned by his touch.

She'd forgotten.

Had it always felt that way? And this . . . this _ache_? Her midsection felt suddenly hollow.. She made herself take a deep breath in and then release it.

When Bella had first been treated for psychosis, it had been with a potent cocktail of drugs, some more pernicious than others. The ones that were harder to wean off of had left her with a very similar feeling—nothing short of a maddening craving. But that was an inadequate description for what she felt at this moment.

Empty was the closest word her mind could supply. Bereft. Desolate. Wanting.

She pressed her hands into her stomach, leaning forward.

"Do you want me to go?" Edward asked.

"No," she said quickly. She wasn't sure what she wanted at the moment but his leaving was not it. "I just—I have a lot to think about. This is—a lot."

"I imagine it is," another voice said.

Both Edward and Bella whipped their heads toward the sound.

Rosalie stood in the doorway.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	16. Sleeping Beauty

A/N for 2019-05-18: Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her work on this story.

In addition to being purely delightful to read, your comments are helpful too - so thank you for sharing. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think of this, and hoping you're not disappointed in Rose!

~ Erin

* * *

Bella's stomach dropped. When Emmett and Rosalie had been absent at their arrival, she'd sort of hoped she might not have to encounter Rose on this visit. She'd loved Emmett like a brother, but Rosalie . . .

"You okay?" Rosalie asked Bella, sparing a quick glance for Edward.

Blinking a few times, Bella found herself at a loss for words.

"Sorry," Rosalie said, looking a little awkward. "Let's try again. Hi."

"Hi," Bella tried.

Rose moved closer. "I've been wanting to come and see you. We didn't want to overwhelm you all at once." She flicked her eyes in Edward's direction once again, one brow raised. He made no response to whatever thought she had just thrown his way.

Bella considered the Rosalie-shaped person before her. "I'm trying to understand why you care. You hated me before."

"And you wanted to throw your human life away," Rosalie said. "Hard not to scorn stupidity like that."

"That was it? Not that you didn't trust me to keep your secret?"

"Oh, that too. You were young, but time seems to have cured that problem."

"Enough, Rose," Edward said, voice full of warning.

"Why, Edward? Do you have exclusive rights to her friendship? Or difficult conversations?"

Friendship? Rosalie wanted _friendship_? Bella's head spun, and not because she felt dizzy.

"Congratulations, by the way." Rose said it so softly and gently, Bella felt a pang. She realized that Rosalie meant it, and obviously it meant something to her. "Three children. You're very blessed." Rosalie's smile was gentle too.

"Thank you," Bella murmured back.

"And as much as I hate to say it, Edward's right. You should be keeping yourself hydrated."

"You go to medical school too?" Bella quipped, not certain how to receive this version of Rosalie that . . . cared.

"Not recently, no," Rose said, scrutinizing her fingernails.

If she hadn't been sitting, Bella was pretty sure she would've fallen over.

"Carlisle and Edward had the most recent turns," Rosalie explained.

Taking another sip of her juice, Bella willed the nausea to disappear. It was still stubbornly in place, and with a sinking realization, she understood that it was likely to be so for several months.

"What's wrong?" Rosalie and Edward asked together.

"Ha," Bella laughed weakly. "Didn't realize vampires could hear disappointment." She shook her head. "Just another joy of pregnancy."

After drinking a little more, and closing her eyes briefly, Bella began to feel slightly less nauseated. Rose and Edward had been quiet. When she looked at them again, she was amused at the sight of their twin expressions of concern. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Where's Emmett?"

"In the garage," Edward answered with a small smile. "He's tuning up your car."

"Wai—what?" Bella asked, whipping her head up too quickly. Horrified visions of practical jokes played out on her only vehicle swam across her mind.

Rosalie scoffed. "He heard some loose parts when you drove in. He wanted to make sure it was alright." She gave Edward a dirty look.

"The car was just checked after my accident. It's fine. The body shop—"

"Didn't tighten everything the way they should have. He's just making sure it's all good. Edward is being overly-dramatic."

Bella and Rose looked at Edward.

"_Emmett_ thinks of it as a tune up," Edward said, folding his arms in front of him. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

Relaxing a little as she watched their familiar sibling bickering, Bella settled again more comfortably in the chair. Rose's comment reminded her that the bill was still outstanding for the car repairs. The insurance had refused to pay, as the other driver was still claiming she'd hit him. "I need to go check on the kids."

When Edward moved to follow her, Bella said, "I can do it on my own, thank you."

Rose was more insistent. "Someone should stay with you. You've been dizzy."

"Sure," Bella said, resenting the intrusion, but recognizing the necessity. Falling over and hitting her head, or worse still—bleeding—was not something she wanted to risk.

There was an awkward moment where the three of them in the kitchen all seemed to be waiting for someone to make the first move to leave. Finally, Rose spoke up. "In case you two have anything else you need to finish up, I'll just wait for you by the stairs, Bella." She gave Edward a pointed look and stepped out the door.

Although she knew none of their previous conversation had been completely private, Bella waited until Rosalie was out of sight before turning to Edward.

"Thank you," Bella began, just as Edward started speaking at exactly the same time.

She closed her mouth and smiled a little.

Then they both said, "You first."

"Please," Edward gestured for her to speak.

"Thank you," Bella tried again, not sure if these were the right words. What were the right words? "For . . . explaining your . . . perspective." She wanted very much to avoid the word feelings, or anything that might dredge up more of the same. She stopped, not certain what else to say.

"Perhaps we can leave it for now," Edward suggested gently. "Everyone has been looking forward to seeing you and your children. I don't want to make this any more difficult for you."

She almost denied it—almost—but yes, it _was_ difficult. She very much wanted to escape the fraught situation she and Edward had found themselves in a few minutes before and instead to work on rekindling her feelings of friendship with the Cullens. It wouldn't be easy but their contrite and warm welcome had gone a long way toward making amends. Bella found it hard to deny that having them nearby, watching out for her, was becoming something of a comfort to her. .

"Good idea," she said, hoping her words were neutral enough for temporary closure without her sounding flippant. Edward nodded as she walked away in search of Rosalie.

Rose showed her downstairs to where Alice and Meredith were busy at work. Meredith looked up, smiling at her mother, and then her jaw dropped. "Aurora," she whispered, catching sight of Rose.

Behind them, Bella heard a booming laugh. "Does that make me Prince Charming?"

"No," Alice scoffed as Emmett wandered in. "Prince Philip. Get your fairy tales straight."

"Hey you," Emmett said a bit more shyly, turning to Bella.

"Hey yourself," she added, smiling, accepting his very gentle hug. It was like embracing a truck.

"Rose said I had to be extra careful." His gaze flicked towards her midsection and back to her eyes. "Congrats."

"Thanks," Bella said.

In Emmett's expression were other unspoken words. The ones that said he was sorry, too.

She gave his hand a quick squeeze.

"Rose isn't a princess," Alice was explaining to Meredith, "but she can sure act like it sometimes."

"And where do you fit into that trope, Alice?" Bella quipped.

"Definitely one of the fairy godmothers," Rose supplied.

Bella disguised her chuckle as a cough.

Mer was looking at Alice, and then at Rosalie. "No," she said. "You're not one of the fairies, they're too fat." She considered this conundrum for a moment.

Edward, who had quietly joined them, burst out laughing.

Meredith looked at him quizzically.

"Sorry," he said. "Just something funny I remembered."

Bella made a note to ask what it was he'd heard, later.

Was there going to be a later? The idea had come to her so naturally that it concerned her, as if letting her guard down had come easier than it should have.

"I think we should maybe get dinner going," Alice said, eyeing Meredith, who'd gone back to tracing the lines of the paper pattern onto the fabric.

"Why don't I show you where Josh is keeping Carlisle and Esme entertained?" Edward said to Bella

"Sure," she responded, watching Meredith cling to Alice's hand. They were moving away with Emmett and Rosalie, talking about what they should make, or order in, for dinner. It was clear Mer felt like the center of attention for once, and Bella was grateful. Her eldest wasn't often, at least not in a good way, and she would let her enjoy every bit of it.

Edward's hand brushed at her back in the narrow corridor, pointing the way. The touch sent a pleasurable shiver up her spine which she tried to ignore. At the far end of the hall was Carlisle's study, where Josh had taken possession of Carlisle's medical bag and was busy playing with a heavy-handled instrument.

"An otoscope," Carlisle was saying. "It helps me look into people's ears."

Josh dropped this item, and Bella flinched.

"It's alright," Edward said, "he'd have to work pretty hard to break anything in there."

Bella wasn't so sure about that. Josh had already demonstrated remarkable skill on that front, most recently with her laptop.

"Man!" he exclaimed, seeing Edward. "Mama!" He ran to her and held up his arms to be picked up. It was still difficult with the cast but she scooped him up and settled him on her hip.

"Are you having fun, little guy?" she asked him.

"Fun," he repeated solemnly with all the seriousness of a major pronouncement, making the adults around him chuckle.

Josh was happy to skip back upstairs, this time holding on to Carlisle's hand.

Bella walked after them more carefully, Edward staying close by. As they rounded the corner, she asked, in almost a whisper, "What did Mer compare Alice to?"

A genuine grin spread over Edward's face, as he whispered back, "Her first thought was Maleficent, but then she settled on Cinderella's fairy godmother."

Bella burst into a fit of laughter. The two images were completely incongruous, but she could see how Mer would put them together.

As she and Edward arrived in the kitchen, Meredith announced, "We're having pizza for dinner!" Then she looked back at Alice, as if seeking support on this conclusion.

"Uh, I think we maybe need to eat something better than just pizza," Bella said to her eldest, and then to Alice. "Kids do need vegetables, Alice."

"They have those on top of the pizza, don't they?" she asked, frowning a little. She studied the menu.

"Yeah, but we don't like that kind," Meredith assured her.

"Oh, they do salad, too!" Alice squealed, as if she'd just found the Holy Grail.

Sighing a little, Bella decided this was not the battle she wanted to fight.

Esme, however, apparently did. "We'll have salad first, then pizza," she announced, eyeing the rest of the family.

"Oh," Bella said, "you don't have to—"

"Children need to see adults eating well, if they're going to eat well," Esme said firmly.

Bella considered this for a moment. She had the impression Esme's statement hadn't been intended for her.

Edward leaned over and whispered, "You know we're good at making it look like we're eating. Don't worry."

"Okay," she said, feeling a bit better. She knew just how miserable it was to eat things that didn't agree with her stomach, and even more what it felt like to experience her body's rejection of them later on.

"Are you going to be alright with pizza?" Rosalie asked.

"It's fine," Bella said quietly, feeling her children's eyes on her.

Rose frowned as she watched her, and there was a strange look from Alice. Bella could have sworn Rosalie was opening her mouth to speak, when she shut it abruptly. Glancing around, she saw that the men in the room were suddenly involved in another conversation altogether—something about the Mariners versus an expansion team, from what she could hear. Her face must have registered her confusion, because Edward again leaned over and spoke quietly into her ear. "Esme just gave us a very brief lecture on the nature of parenthood, and told us to keep our opinions to ourselves and stop pestering you."

"Oh," Bella mouthed, relieved. Then she smiled at him. "For the record," she whispered back, as if everyone in the room couldn't hear them perfectly, "Charlie will be heartbroken if Vancouver gets an expansion team."

She heard Emmett's groan and Jasper's "Yes!" as Edward chuckled.

For a moment, the traumatic events of the last few years were eclipsed by the memories of times like these, feeling like she was part of the family, laughing with Edward. But it was a brief reprieve. When she looked at Josh, she saw a miniature version of his father, and her smile faltered. She tried to resurrect it, but knew the result was only a ghost of its progenitor.

She found herself wondering if it was disloyal to herself—or to Matt—to allow herself to be so familiar again with the family who had abandoned her. But it was for Mer and Josh, she reminded herself. The Cullens were protecting them now, and that was everything.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. Bella kept to the safe territory of watching her children and discussing her work with Esme. She enjoyed watching the Cullens put on a show for the kids, pretending to relish their salads. To her great surprise, Josh soldiered through several bites of green leafiness. She had to keep herself from staring.

"Yum?" Josh asked Edward.

"Mmm, yum," Edward said solemnly, pretending to eat a bite of cucumber.

The pizza was an easier sell, and Josh munched through a whole large slice by himself.

"Alright little caterpillar," Bella finally said, watching him yawn. "Time to go turn into a butterfly. We're going home to bed."

"I'd like to go with you, if it's alright," Edward said.

She was about to say she'd be fine getting there but then realized there was probably a reason he wanted to accompany her.

"Emmett and Rose will follow behind us," he said. "Just to make sure he can fix any mistakes he's made with your car." Then he ducked Emmett's playful punch.

"Your car is in excellent shape," Emmett assured Bella. "Don't mind the smart-ass there."

"I never do," Bella quipped, moving to the driver's side door, lifting her eyebrows at Edward who was competing for the same space.

As if it had been his intention all along, he opened the door for her and then graciously closed it again before moving to the passenger side. She couldn't help the amused glance in his direction. "Smooth." she whispered.

He just smiled, staring straight ahead.

When they reached home, Josh was just nodding off in his car seat.

"Shoot," Bella whispered, biting her lip.

"Do you want some help getting him to bed?" Edward asked, eyeing Josh.

"Can you?" she asked.

Edward nodded, moving out of the passenger seat quickly. His fingers were light on the straps, slipping Josh free of them and then whisking him inside.

Bella followed more slowly, Mer's warm hand solid in hers. They moved quietly through their brief bedtime routine.

"Edward is really nice to Josh. He reminds me of Daddy."

Bella didn't say anything for a moment, focusing on helping Mer put her pajamas on. She smiled and motioned that they should go to the bathroom. It was odd, just having the time with her eldest. She was used to herding both children through the bedtime routine. Matt's work had been busy, and it frequently took him away on short trips out of town. In the months before his death, his hours had also increased. It had been rarer to have him home for dinner than not. Bella had gotten used to managing the bed-time routine on her own because, even when Matt had been home, it had been easier not to break the pattern with Josh. She hadn't resented him for it—not really. But it had been challenging to manage everything by herself on days she was called to teach. Matt hadn't always understood how challenging it could be.

Edward's interactions with Josh were so natural it was almost painful. They were what she wished Matt could have had with his son.

She shoved these thoughts away, focusing on Mer instead. They brushed their teeth together singing through Twinkle Twinkle twice.

Meredith was slow moving back into bed, yawning. "Story," she mumbled, and then closed her eyes, asleep almost instantly.

Bella watched her enviously. She wished sleep would come so rapidly for herself these days. But then, that was grief, or at least that was what Bella told herself. She missed Matt and felt sad that he wouldn't get to see his children grow up but a lot of the time, her thoughts were elsewhere: Frustration about money because she had let Matt talk her into using their savings for the renovations, anxiety about the health of the child growing inside her, fear surrounding the new threat posed by Victoria . . . whatever the emotion of the moment was, it was keeping her from the rest she desperately needed.

And it made a shitty mix with pregnancy.

She'd almost forgotten about Edward when she walked back into her room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, Josh in his arms, a finger to his lips. "Almost there," he mouthed over Josh's head, which was resting on his shoulder

The stab of envy took her by surprise and was then quickly replaced by guilt.

Your husband was in that bed just two months ago.

And you haven't even washed his pillowcase yet.

She looked away, grabbing her summer pajamas and robe from the dresser, and then disappeared into the bathroom. She came back layered in both—sweltering.

Edward was laying Josh down in the playpen when he stopped abruptly, and Josh's little voice piped up. "Man!" he mumbled. His grip tightened on Edward's shirt, and Edward stood with him again, sitting back on the bed.

"It's okay," Bella said. "I'll take him. You can go."

She held out her arms, and Edward shifted to transfer him. This time, Josh's, "Man!" was louder.

She persisted, rubbing Josh's back while Edward still held him. "It's mummy, sweetie. Time for bed."

Her son answered by pressing his face into Edward's shirt.

Edward chuckled at whatever expression was on her face. "He's warm, Bella. That's all. He likes that I'm cold."

She let out a long breath. "Tell me about it." She pulled off her robe, tossing it onto the dresser.

Edward kept his eyes firmly on the boy in his arms.

Sighing, she sat down on the bed. It was just after nine, but she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was to lie down and sink into oblivion.

Seeming to sense this, Edward whispered, "I'll wait in the hall. I can put him to bed when he's asleep, if you want to go to bed yourself."

She shook her head. "I don't think you'll be able to. He gets these moods. He's going to want to be in my bed tonight."

"I can put him there, too." Edward said.

Bella wrestled with the urge to be a good parent, and the equally strong one to collapse into bed and sleep. If she could.

Rest won out. "Okay. But you might have better luck with starting there then." Bella slid over to her side, and then realized that Edward would be on Matt's side. Her breath hitched momentarily.

Be practical, she told herself. Matt would be happy that Josh was happy.

Right?

She made herself say, "Why don't you try sitting on the bed with him? It might make it easier for him to let go if he knows I'm here."

And so, Bella found herself in bed with Edward Cullen. Sort of. He sat up against the headboard, Josh curled in his arms. She tried not to think about how familiar it felt to have him there. It recalled memories of their time together in Forks, and along with them, the powerful feelings she'd had for him then.

When she woke in the middle of the night, he was gone, and Josh had nudged himself up against her. She dragged Matt's pillow towards her, inhaling deeply, finding, instead of only Matt's, a perplexing mixture of his and Edward's scents. The blend was as confused as her feelings, and she was slow to fall back asleep, trying to disentangle the emotional threads she found herself wound up in.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	17. The Mac Shack

A/N for 2019-05-21: Beta'd by Eeyorefan12, whose insights and dedication make working on this story a true joy.

The Mac Shack was a real place, and it served the best Mac and Cheese ever. I lament its passing still.

~ Erin

* * *

She'd thought she would get used to the memories of Matt that seemed to surprise her, living in the home they had shared, but each was a fresh shock, just as startling as the last. The unexpected warmth and sun late in April had made her go digging for the sunscreen in the kitchen junk drawer while the kids waited impatiently at the door. She found it wrapped up in a plastic bag, a note snapped to it with a rubber band.

Matt's familiar handwriting spoke to her as clearly as if she could hear him say the words before her: "Hey Peanut: When you finish with the kids, come and lube me up in our bedroom." He'd put a smiley face underneath.

Nestled in memory, Bella was only dimly aware of Meredith's voice.

"Mama, what's wrong?" Meredith asked.

"Nothing," Bella finally managed.

"But you look sad," Mer protested, frowning at her.

Wiping her nose surreptitiously with a tissue, Bella opened the sunscreen and busied herself with smearing it on Josh's legs. He giggled at the sensation.

"Daddy left me a silly note on the sunscreen," she finally said.

"Can I read it?" Mer asked. While she wasn't five yet, her incessant demands for books and stories had been motivation enough for Bella to teach her to read herself.

"Er—"

But Mer had already picked up the scrap of paper.

"What does, lu . . . lub me up, mean?" she asked, struggling with the unfamiliar verb.

There was an unexpected flash of exasperation towards Matt, at being left with this tricky situation. It faded, and a guilty twinge replaced it. It wasn't like he would have known she'd open the note in front of the kids. Then again, Bella had felt sometimes like the "responsible" parent while Matt liked to be the "fun" one. She missed his companionship and felt sorrow over his death and yet . . . she was finding her footing. . She even had to admit that sometimes it was easier with no other adult to consult. She got to make all the decisions.

Of course, that meant she got to make _all_ the decisions.

She made one now, saying, "Daddy was just being silly. It's a way of saying he wanted me to put sunscreen on him." She didn't elaborate on where.

"Well lub me up, then!" Meredith announced.

"It's lube, sweetie." Her correction was reluctant, and she chuckled. "But maybe don't ask other adults to do that."

"Why not?"

Bella thought for a moment. "Because it's a special way that daddy asked me. Other adults might think it's a bit silly."

Bella had reached Joshua's arms with the sunscreen, which he tolerated, but he bolted when she tried to reach his face. He pointed himself into the corner, curling up into a ball. "No!" he said firmly, when she asked if she could put it on his face.

"But you'll get a burn, sweetie. Your face will be hot and ouchy."

Josh turned around, a little smile there. "Man," he said knowingly, like he had a solution to a problem.

Seeing his determination and not wanting to point out that Man would not be joining them in the sun, Bella breathed out in resignation, "Let's get your hat then."

\- 0 -

The rhythms of work were smoother now. Her colleagues were helpful with lessons and materials, and she marked papers at work whenever she could. Her neighbour Grant was a regular visitor to her classroom at lunch and had finally convinced her to head outside for lunchtime the week before.

"Come on," he said from her classroom door. "You could eat that . . ." He peered over her shoulder, looking at the soggy sandwich she had shoved into a plastic container. "Whatever that is, or, you can come with me to this awesome little shop that only serves mac and cheese."

"Only mac and cheese? Seriously?"

"Don't spurn it 'til you've tried it. They have a kimchi version."

"Oh, gross," Bella said, shuddering, trying not to imagine that too clearly. There was a wave of nausea that rippled over her midsection.

"You okay?" Grant asked.

"Yeah, just um, morning sickness."

"Oh," he said a little uncertainly, adding a hasty, "Congratulations."

"Thanks," she said. She hadn't told him about Matt, but he did know about her children.

She saw him glance at her left hand, which was ringless. Her extremities had swollen with her last pregnancy, and she had never gotten around to having her wedding ring sized up.

"My husband died in February," she added very quietly.

His hand pressed lightly over hers for just a moment. "I'm so sorry, and for bringing it up, too." He winced a little.

"It's okay, really. It's easier, having people know. Well, sort of, as long as they're not weird about it." She looked hopefully at him. Please don't get weird, she thought. It had been nice to have a friend at work.

He chuckled a little. "No problem. I can do 'not weird' there, but no guarantees on others. Speaking of weird, though, mac and cheese for lunch? They have a nice tomato soup, too, if that suits you better?"

"Actually, tomato soup would be awesome." It was one of her pregnancy staples.

The walk did her good. Their classrooms were housed in an outbuilding that was referred to as 'the bunker'. Its cinder block walls were topped with high windows that provided lots of light, but nothing direct and absolutely no view. She felt like she was emerging from a cocoon every time she left for the day.

Spring had taken firm hold around them, and the sidewalk was peppered with a rain of pink petals from the cherry-blossom trees along their route.

"This is so magical," she said, stopping to watch a tree shed a fresh wave of speckled pink to the ground.

"I know," he said, grinning. "Especially when it starts in February."

She squinted at the sun, enjoying its warmth on her face.

"You like the sun?" he asked.

"Very much," she said. "I can't wait for the summer," though her face fell a bit with her words as she realized she might not be able to venture to as many sunny spots as she normally would with the children. They loved the beach and the outdoor pools but, for the foreseeable future, shade would be about more than just sun protection.

"Something wrong with this sunshine?" he asked.

"No," she smiled back. "Just realizing I'm going to be pregnant through the summer."

"Mm," he said sympathetically. "Yeah, I've seen my sister do that. Not fun. Sorry."

She chuckled and shrugged, and they walked on.

The small restaurant was, as he'd promised, excellent, and when they returned to their classrooms it was with satiated smiles on their faces.

The week wore on, and on Friday Bella bumped into Grant in the photocopy room.

After chatting about the minutiae of their teaching days, Grant asked, very quietly, "So, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner sometime? If you're free, maybe tomorrow?"

She froze.

"Oh." She searched for other words. "I'm not—thank you, it's . . ." She appreciated his friendship. Deeply. But . . . "It's too soon," she said. "I'm sorry." There were tears brimming.

He looked contrite. "No, I'm sorry. It was stupid of me. And I promised you not weird. I get it." He looked down, "But if you change your mind—"

"Thank you," she said as graciously as she could, picking up her photocopying and hurrying away for the start of the day.

The warmer weather seemed to make the day go faster. The students were more active at least, and it felt like she'd just gotten to work when she was staring down the last five minutes of last period on a Friday afternoon.

It was nuts.

The kids were supposedly working on notes for an essay assignment for writing next week, but in reality most had moved onto weekend plans. A few phones had migrated from backpacks, and Bella felt like she was playing a losing game of Whack-a-Mole, trying to keep them working.

She was deep in conversation with one boy, when one of the more studious girls said, "Uh, Ms. Hamilton? I think you've got a visitor."

Bella turned around. Edward was standing in the doorway. Most of the class had quieted down and were staring at him.

Her breath caught in her throat. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong if he was here.

Then he smiled and waved, and Bella had to shake her head, trying to wrap her mind around what had brought him here. She moved slowly, redirecting a few more errant stares back into their notebooks. These happened reluctantly, but by the time she'd reached Edward, the students were distracted enough for her to be free to ask, "What's wrong?" in a low whisper.

He didn't answer. Not with words.

Instead, he pulled her into a kiss, one hand at her head, the other at her elbow, forcing her hand onto his shoulder.

Her eyes wide open, she could see Grant's shocked expression directly across the hall from them. The kiss lasted long enough for his face to flame in embarrassment and then hurt. Pinned in Edward's grip, Bella could only watch as Grant turned and walked back into his classroom.

Somewhere behind her, a drawn-out wolf whistle and then a round of applause broke out from her own students.

As he drew his lips away from hers, Edward raised his hand and gently stroked one finger down her cheek in an intimate gesture before releasing her from his embrace. In her humiliation, Bella couldn't really place the expression in his eyes but it almost appeared apologetic. Then, he turned and smoothly disappeared.

The bell rang.

Bella stood in the middle of the doorway as her students filed out past her, some with snickers, and a few bolder ones with innuendo-laden comments.

She ignored them all, keeping her eyes—and flaming cheeks—focused on the floor.

It was more than her face that was livid.

She was such a fool. She had believed he actually cared. No, she was just as he'd told her: a distraction.

How stupid was she to believe him a second time!

Idiot, she hissed at herself.

Mustering her self-control, she shoved her self-recriminations away. Right now, she needed to control the damage in front of her. Moving towards Grant's classroom, she raised her hand to knock. The door opened before she could make contact and Grant stood there, bag and coat in hand. "I'm leaving, Bella. Is it something quick?" He didn't meet her eyes.

"What you saw, that was not—we're not—"

"You don't have to explain it to me," Grant interrupted. "But I would've appreciated it if you'd just told me the truth." The last words were muttered, and he closed the door behind him, brushing past her as he left through the outer door.

"Grant, please wait—"

But he held up his hand behind him, not stopping.

She went back to her classroom and sat down.

Her hands were shaking, and she knew she'd be useless to work for the rest of the afternoon, so she packed up her things, locked the classroom, and walked towards the parking lot.

The weather had shifted, a layer of clouds suggesting the possibility of rain. Rounding the outer corner of the building, she nearly ran into Edward, who stood with a finger pressed to his lips. His other hand was holding up a small open notepad, on which he'd written out a message in bold black marker: NOT SAFE. WE'RE BEING WATCHED.

Fuck you, Bella thought, her thoughts still jumbled and angry. She started to walk past him.

He flipped the page, holding it up again, almost in her face: MER AND JOSH ARE WITH CARLISLE AND ESME.

Her face flushed. Was this just a game to them? Were her children just pieces of entertainment? Maybe she had been too generous, thinking the rest of the Cullens weren't a part of some charade. She had given them permission to protect the children, not to pick them up any time they wanted.

Now Edward had flipped to a third page and Bella looked in spite of herself: ROSE AND EMMETT ARE WATCHING YOUR DAD.

Suddenly, her thoughts cleared and her stomach sank, heavy with the realization that there was much, much more going on. Her _Dad_?

Her forehead crinkled in query, "How—?"

Edward put his finger more forcefully to his lips, and then scratched a new note onto a fresh page: VICTORIA HAS HELPERS. WE DON'T KNOW HOW MANY.

They had more than just Victoria to worry about. Now her legs were absorbing the shock of what he was telling her. He wasn't screwing with her. Victoria was.

He wrote again: WE NEED TO GO. NOW.

He tucked the notebook under his arm and pocketed the marker. He held out his hand, face full of urgency.

He'd just humiliated her in front of her students and broken the one friendship she'd managed to form. But he seemed concerned . . . sincere. Could she trust him?

"Please," he mouthed. Then he said the words that made the decision for her: "Josh and Mer are waiting for you."

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	18. A Moment of Clarity

A/N for 2019-05-24: Profound thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her many hours of work on this chapter, and to Shouldbecleaning for pre-reading. It feels like a big moment, posting this, so hope you enjoy.

\- Erin

* * *

She hadn't said anything in the car. Anxiety and anger doubly muted her. Edward remained silent as well, although he checked his phone surreptitiously for texts every few minutes.

Traffic had become the viscous crawl that characterized Vancouver's Friday afternoons. When they arrived at the Cullens' home, she hurried inside and saw that Mer and Josh were not just safe, but happy. When her heart had slowed to a manageable pace, she made herself sit down with them for a moment, pretending it was just another day—just another afternoon at a friend's home. She made sure they thought she was fine.

Then she turned to Edward, who was watching her from the doorway of Carlisle's study. She hissed, sotto voce, "Outside. Now."

On the way upstairs, Bella's eyes took in the dining room, which had been to her back as she walked into the house. Spread over the table were an assortment of local newspapers, and articles, most with lines of marker across them. Several open laptops dotted the exterior of the table.

"Research," Edward murmured.

The sight of it all gave her pause, but only the most fleeting kind. She was still too violently angry over the public display he had initiated than for anything else. She turned on her heel and headed for the front door, then kept walking past the parking pad. Bella didn't stop until she knew they'd be well out of human earshot from the house.

"I am not yours," she said.

"I know," Edward said.

"Be quiet." She drew in more air, and then huffed just as much out.

"I was never yours. I have a life. I have children. I have a heart, and you already broke it."

She could see him struggling to be quiet, but he only nodded, hands in tight fists as he kept his anxious gaze level with hers.

"I am not a thing to be toyed with—people are not things to be toyed with, or _assaulted_—anywhere, ever." Her face flamed with humiliation again, thinking about what her students must be thinking—about what Grant must be thinking. There was an errant question that rattled her thoughts: perhaps Edward didn't understand? So few men truly did, even today—and he came from such a different time.

Edward kept silent, lips pressed into a disciplined line as he waited for her to speak. She thought there was a tautness in his cheeks that could have been shame or embarrassment.

No, she concluded, he'd known.

Her anger found air again, intensifying. Her message needed to be clear. She chewed on her cheek, choosing her words precisely. "I've made one friend here, Edward. That was Grant. And I'm pretty sure you have seen or heard enough to know that he wanted to be more than friends. That's my call. Not yours. I know you might have gotten the wrong idea the other day, but just in case you need a reminder on what is, and is not acceptable, making decisions about my relationships is completely out of bounds—"

"Bella, please. I have to explain—"

"I'M SURE YOU THINK YOU CAN! JUST LIKE YOU EXPLAINED YOU WERE LEAVING TEN YEARS AGO! YOU DON'T GET TO MAKE DECISIONS ABOUT WHO I SEE, OR DON'T, OR ARE FRIENDS WITH!" Her balled-up fists shook forcefully as if punctuating each word.

Edward didn't move, and to her great dissatisfaction, didn't even flinch.

"I know," he said softly.

"THEN STOP FUCKING WITH MY LIFE!"

"I am not trying to . . . manage your life," he said through tight teeth. "I'm trying to protect you and the people you love."

"By assaulting and humiliating me in front of my students? My one friend at work?" Her voice was hoarse from shouting, the weak croak she could manage frustratingly inadequate for all the rage she wanted to throw at him.

"By keeping him alive. So he can be a friend someday."

"What?" she asked. This made no sense, not unless—

"Victoria wants to hurt me." Edward said quietly, "You already know this. And she wants to do it by hurting you . . . and any people you might care about."

It might as well have been a punch to her midsection. She put her hands there, and felt herself sinking as cool hands guided her to a fallen log.

"Alice saw, and of all the decisions we made, mine was the only one that seemed to shift the outcome. I'm sorry I couldn't think of another way and that the one I chose showed such disrespect to you. But if you were important to him, and it looked like you cared for him . . ." He let the statement dangle unfinished.

Bella's mind had no difficulty following his words to their dark and logical ends.

"I didn't stop her with Jacob." Edward said. "Or Matt. I don't want to see you hurt again. I can't watch that again."

Was he shaking?

Maybe she was. She wasn't sure. She was too busy tying all these pieces together. "You weren't trying to stop me from being with him?"

"Of course not." She saw the fierceness in his eyes and he spoke with conviction. "I will make sure you have your life back. No more monsters, no more fears of what my kind will do."

She let that filter through her mind, still grappling with all that he'd revealed.

"Is Charlie safe?" she asked, thinking of how far away he was, even with Rose and Emmett there.

"Yes."

"And my mother?"

"Alice hasn't seen anything." He looked at her questioningly. "Are you still close with her?"

"No," Bella said, her heart continuing to slow from the frantic pace of a few minutes before. No, the unnatural lines of that relationship had fractured when she'd become a parent herself. Renee was another demand to be met, and one best met by Phil.

"And Grant," she started again. "You think he's safe now?" She closed her eyes. Her friend thought she was a liar—too much of a chicken to tell him she wasn't interested.

So much for friendship.

"Yes," Edward said. "We think so. I'm sorry."

She was about to open her mouth to say more, when she felt herself suddenly flying through the air, a hard vice around her.

Her back met the rough wood of the house's exterior, with Alice, Jasper, and Edward forming a rough semi-circle in front with their backs to her. Each of them squatted in a defensive crouch, the trembling of their lips, when they turned their heads to each other, telling Bella they were speaking, but not in a way they wanted her to hear.

"Bella, can you follow our movements?" Edward asked. He didn't turn around.

He couldn't, she realized. There was a flicker in the trees.

"Bella, can you?" he repeated, this time more urgently.

"Yes," she said, although human ears probably wouldn't have heard her.

"Now," Alice said.

All three of them sidestepped to the right, once, then twice in an elegant crab-walk. Bella matched their pace along the wall, reaching the smoother texture of the door.

"Get to Carlisle and Esme," Jasper called without looking at her.

He didn't need to tell her twice. She bolted for the stairs and Carlisle's study.

Carlisle and Esme stood inside, their easy conversation with Josh and Mer belied by the stiff postures they held at the window and door.

"Keep them calm and keep them here," Esme whispered to Bella. She and Carlisle left the room.

Bella knew there was nothing else she could do. If the Cullens failed at whatever this was, she could only hope the end would be quick.

"Man, I missed you guys," she said to Mer, who was busy with a set of scissors and paper. Josh had managed to fracture the glass of Carlisle's otoscope. With her eyes resting on this shiny fissure, Bella kept talking, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. The control she exerted was brittle. It wouldn't last long.

"Come sit with me," she whispered to Josh, patting her lap. He ignored her, too obsessed with the shifting clunk of glass that moved as he turned the handle. "Mer?" Bella asked, throat tightening with the panic she was fighting.

Huffing a little, Mer accepted her invitation, dragging her project along with her.

Bella breathed into her daughter's hair, small, controlled, shaky breaths that accepted Mer's scent with each desperate inhalation, reminding her that they were all still here and still okay in this moment.

Josh was just within her arm's reach and she reached to tug him a little closer.

She decided, listening to the snip of Mer's scissors, and the tinkling clunk of the otoscope, that if this was their end, she wanted to be touching them both one more time. She could feel the tender flesh she had made with Matt, and that the two of them had entrusted to the future.

She jumped when the sound of shearing metal reached them.

"What's that?" Mer asked, glancing back at her mother.

Bella listened silently, waiting for the sound to repeat, hoping against hope that it would not. It had been years since she had heard it but the horror of both those events was suddenly fresh and the sound something she realized she had never forgotten. Long-buried memories washed over her, coming so fast that they seemed to tumble over each other, overwhelming her with images . . . Edward struggling in James' grip as Bella screamed in pain, Jacob's image, then Victoria screeching her rage, Edward again, his face twisted in desperation and sorrow as she bled out on the floor, telling Carlisle he couldn't live without her . . .

"Mama?" Mer asked. Her scissors fell silent.

"It sounded like metal tearing," Bella said, her hoarse voice making her sound absent-minded.

What she didn't say, what she hadn't even realized until that moment when the memories had come rushing back and the thought became overwhelming, was what truly terrified her—_what if it was Edward?_

There was no stopping the assault of memories now, memories she'd been convinced were delusions before and which hadn't surfaced in years: Edward risking his whole family's safety to sweep her away from Tyler's oncoming van, standing between her and her attackers in Port Angeles, hurling himself at James to rip him away from her in the ballet studio, throwing himself at Jasper when his brother's thoughts revealed his bloodlust for Bella, Edward's stark admission that he would have sought to end his own life if she had died, all the while begging her to stay human, to have the life he could never give her . . .

But he had given it to her. Maybe the decision had been wrongly made for her, and maybe the price had been almost too much to bear but the reward was right here with her: her children—and memories of the good man with whom she had created them and who would live on through them.

Now, Edward was outside with his family, fighting for her life once again, offering himself without a thought, proving his words—proving his love.

And all of a sudden, she felt like she was screaming inside. Screaming that it wasn't fair, that she had lost him again, that she'd been stupid, that they could have been together.

That she'd wasted this second chance.

Unaware of her mother's inner turmoil, Meredith's only response was "Oh," as she shifted in Bella's lap, beginning to cut at the paper again.

The rough snip of the scissors reminded Bella of the one summer she'd shared with Edward and his family, those ten years ago.

_"You don't have long to wait, you know," Alice had said. Bella had blushed at the knowing look Edward's sister had given her. _

_"I know," Bella had replied, trying to keep her hand steady on the scissors. Esme had invited her to help with a quilting project. Despite Bella's protests about lacking coordination and skill, Esme had insisted, and Bella should have suspected an ulterior motive. She'd been trimming the edges of the pieced squares, and while she enjoyed seeing her hands produce something lasting, she'd been impatient for Edward's return. He'd gone to hunt—properly hunt—with his brothers. Esme and Alice had taken notice of her preoccupation and distraction and had explained to her that she was probably feeling what they referred to as a mate bond. _

_The slightly-embarrassing conversation that had followed had fascinated Bella but she had privately dismissed the idea. While Edward had talked to her about his intense attraction to her, and she had told him the same, it seemed that everything they described sounded like every romance novel she had read, and every crush on a guy that Jessica and Lauren had ever expounded on. She knew how intensely she loved Edward, but at the time, she didn't want to sound like a cliche. Besides, how could she have a vampire mate bond when she wasn't even a vampire?_

_The sudden appearance of a man's hand over hers, while she was still holding the scissors, had made her gasp. But she'd known the gentle touch of those fingers, as well as the familiar scent her quickened breath had captured. She'd smiled. "You're back."_

_His own greeting had been wordless and, when his kiss had ended, Bella had realised they'd been left alone. Her heart had beat in a way that felt easier—righter, with him at her side again._

Returning to the moment, Bella pondered the specific memory that had surfaced at such a time and forced herself to think of the man she had married. Bella had loved Matt dearly, of that she was sure, but she now realized their separations never made her ache inside, that their reunions never made her body speak to his the way Edward's did, even now.

She had given Matt as much of herself as she'd had to give, but he hadn't had all of her. He'd had her loyalty, her caring, her companionship, and the very fruit of her body in their children, but she'd known—known in the very essence of herself that there was a part of her that she didn't have to offer him. She had thought it was gone, or broken for good, but now, it was back in force, flexing and growing and crying out for someone—and it wasn't Matt.

Josh had become still. The otoscope lay on the carpet. He looked at Bella, lip quivering, and then tilted his head back and began to wail—not scream, as was usual for him, but wail. The long and mournful howl pouring out of his little body made Bella's blood run cold.

She slipped an arm around his torso and dragged him even closer, lifting him onto the other side of her lap where she held on far too tightly to pretend that everything was alright.

Then she smelled the smoke. The sweet, cloying haze that reached her wasn't thick enough to make her choke, but she did anyway, as she remembered the scent and what it had meant the times she had encountered it. Choking sobs of grief and fear nearly folded her in half with their intensity. Meredith protested her mother's crushing grip, and pushed away to sit on the floor again.

"No!" Bella gasped, when she felt a set of cold hands touch her shoulders.

"It's okay, it's just me," Edward said kneeling down beside them.

"You're alright!" she sputtered out, then awkwardly turned and hurled herself into his chest, Josh still wailing, awkwardly gripped in one of her arms.

"Everything's fine," Edward whispered. His hands were feather-light on her back.

She hadn't closed her eyes so she saw him turn his gaze to the children. She could tell he was listening for a moment before he responded to an unheard question. "A tree came down and knocked over one of the lampposts. It started a small fire, too. Carlisle and Jasper are just putting it out right now."

"I want to go see!" Meredith squeaked.

"Later," Edward assured her. "When it's safe."

Esme appeared, and then Carlisle. Bella felt like a balloon deflating, weak with relief. If they were here, then she and her children were safe. For now.

Josh had calmed with Edward's appearance and had gone back to the carpet and Carlisle's bag, glancing up occasionally in his mother's and Edward's direction.

Edward's arm was now tight at her back. "What happened?" She choked out.

"Come with me," he said, pointing his chin towards the hall.

Neither of them broke contact as they stepped out of the room.

He kept his voice low. "There were three of them. They bolted pretty quickly once Esme and Carlisle arrived, but we caught one. We didn't chase the rest because we thought they could be decoys. Alice and Jasper are outside. She doesn't see them coming back. They were surprised by our numbers."

Bella's eyes swept over him. His shirt was slightly torn. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "We all are."

These were the words that unlocked her knees, and this time, when he picked her up, she succumbed to the shock her body had been holding off, bones jellying, teeth chattering. He ran her up to the main floor's living room at a dizzying pace and laid her on the couch.

"Wait! Josh—"

"They're both fine, but they'll worry if they see you in shock like this."

She fisted her hands at her sides, trying to breathe.

Pulling a small package from his pocket, Edward opened her hand and pressed a flat tablet into her palm.

"No," she said, recoiling.

"It's just a sugar pill."

She eyed it with concern. "Just sugar?"

"Just sugar," he assured her.

Setting it under her tongue, she waited, hoping.

Trusting.

Yes, sugar, her mouth told her. Just sugar.

She tried to sit up, but the world spun again, and she cursed her stupidly-pregnant body for betraying her need to move, scream, panic, and cry all at once.

She settled for quietly releasing her tears, keeping a tight grip on Edward's hand.

"I really wanted to just be mad at you," she finally said.

"You have every right to be." He was kneeling by the couch, watching her intently, letting his hand be held captive.

"But I'm really just glad you're okay," she whispered.

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm fairly indestructible." There was a soft smile on his face.

"No, you're not. Neither was the pile of ash that's probably on your front lawn."

Edward didn't answer this, but he gently pulled his hand away.

She tried sitting up again, wanting the touch back, wanting—not daring to want what she wanted. The now-familiar ache in her chest returned.

"I'll take you home," Edward said. "We'll try to let your lives be as normal as possible, but I can't promise—"

"It's—" she started, but he interrupted her.

"Let me finish, Bella. Please?"

Eyeing his tight jaw, she nodded reluctantly.

Would he even listen to her, when he hadn't before, if she told him about her epiphany? Would he accept that her rediscovered feelings were just as valid as his? She felt her gut twisting, everything inside amorphous and heavy with foreboding

No, this was where he would tell her he was leaving, that his world was too dangerous for her, that she didn't belong there . . . or with him.

"Once we take care of Victoria," Edward began, "you will have your human life back. I promise you that. Friends, and all the . . . relationships you deserve, without me or my family hindering you. Or dragging more monsters into your world." He hadn't been looking at her as he talked but now he looked up and focused his eyes on hers. " The one thing I can't promise you, Bella, is that I'll leave. I . . . don't think I can." He dropped his gaze again.

"What?" She felt utterly perplexed. Had she heard him correctly?

He was about to speak again, but she interrupted him. "Did you say that you won't leave?"

He nodded slowly, still looking down. "I'm sorry, I ju—"

"Can I talk now?" she asked.

He answered with his eyes which, she saw, had faded to a sombre black.

"I'm really glad you're not going anywhere." Her entire body lightened with the release of these words, and she watched his forehead pull into a wrinkled question. "Because a few minutes ago, I wasn't sure I'd be able to have a second chance with you, or see my children grow up, and those were really the only things on my mind."

Edward's chest rose and fell, but the rest of him was perfectly still.

Her heart lurched. Maybe he'd had a flash of clarity too. And maybe he felt differently.

She looked at her hands. "But if you don't—I get that danger can bring moments of clarity—"

"Do you _want_ to be with me?" he interrupted, his tone hushed and incredulous.

She lifted her eyes to his, seeing the tentative hope dawning there.

"Yes." The word escaped quickly, a short breath snatched in on its heels.

That was good, because for the second time that day, Edward kissed her. It wasn't a shock or an assault this time, it was a welcome fire, and she was the fuel. His usually-cold hands were hot iron where they cupped her cheeks, and her own fingers made fiery trails over his arms, his chest, his back. She was gasping for air when he finally ended the kiss, finding herself half-bent over the side of the sofa, his arm a hard brace behind her.

"Sorry," he said, watching her pant.

"God, breathing," she huffed out between gasps. "Is such a pain in the ass."

A sudden, genuine smile transfigured his face. He pulled her close, burying his face her hair. "I've missed you so much." His words were nearly a sob.

Her throat tightened, and she couldn't find words. She scrunched her hands in his hair, closing her eyes, and holding on, savoring the moment and the feeling of wholeness that enveloped her, here in his arms.

"Me too," she finally whispered.

When she began to shiver, he picked her up, and carried her towards another set of stairs, away from prying eyes.


	19. Resurrected

A/N for 2019-05-30: I think this chapter went through at least ten different revisions, and I am again grateful for Eeyorefan12's patience and grit in going through this chapter so many times. If there are errors, they are mine.

I owe thanks to Shouldbecleaning as well, for her feedback on the last chapter, where she mentioned Jasper - who I'd forgotten about!

We remain fascinated by your responses to this story - thank you for taking time to leave them.

~ Erin

* * *

"Edward, where are you taking me?" Bella asked, not alarmed, but curious about the destination. She hadn't been upstairs in the house yet.

"To bed."

Her entire body stiffened, but he didn't leave her time to consider the purpose of the destination.

"You're cold," he explained. "And I'm not helping. You've also had a huge shock, and I'd like you to put your feet up."

"The couch works for that too," she observed.

"And to hoard you jealously all to myself for a few precious minutes, before Josh comes looking for you." Seeing the look she gave him, he added, "Don't worry, he's fine, and they'll bring him at the earliest sign of trouble." His nose nuzzled hers.

She found his lips again and let her body remember the way it could so easily melt against his. Her muscles went slack in his arms. She barely noticed when he slipped her into bed, but hated the distance the heavy covers made between them.

"I'm fine," she said, as he continued to adjust the blankets.

"You're shivering," he reminded her, pulling back, taking a deep breath himself as he straightened up. "Oh God, Bella," he exhaled, gazing down at her. "I feel like I've been resurrected. It's like I've been walking underwater for years, and now I'm breathing air again."

He stepped to the other side of the bed and laid down beside her, taking her hand in his and holding it as they watched each other.

When he spoke again, there was a shaking earnestness to his voice. "There were so many times when I nearly came back. I wanted to. I felt like I'd cut myself in two when I left—and knowing even the barest details of what my forcing us apart did to you, I cannot repent enough of the horrendous mistake I made."

In the past, she would've told him it was alright. His very existence had excused every flaw. But not now. So she listened, fingers tight over his, nodding.

"I was so arrogant. I really thought I knew what would be best. By the time I realized how wrong I had been, it was too dangerous for you if I returned. I know my words mean nothing right now, but I will show you I've learned—I've changed."

They'd pushed closer together, foreheads almost touching. She closed her eyes. She couldn't say she was sure she believed him—no, that was too much yet, but she _wanted_ to believe him, and that was enough for now. More importantly, she wanted to _be_ with him.

"I want you," she said. "I want us."

There was a sweeter and softer kiss, marked by the tender beginnings of forgiveness and hope.

As her shivering began to subside, Bella became aware of other protests her body was making. She tried to ignore them in favor of focusing on Edward. She understood perfectly what he meant about walking through her own ocean of grief, because she'd done so first when he left, then with Jacob, and finally with Matt.

But now, if grief was an ocean, she was above the water in that larger vessel of trust, basking in the sun—with Edward.

She huffed out a laugh at herself for waxing so saccharinely poetic, and for what now felt like a ridiculous waste of time over the last few weeks. She'd resisted Edward so much that it had sapped all her energy, fighting what felt completely natural to accept.

"What's making you laugh?" he asked softly.

"I was thinking about how hard it's been to resist this." She tightened her fingers together with his. "The pull. The relief."

"I know," he breathed. Brushing a hair away from her face, he frowned, like he was thinking about something. Finally, he asked, "What changed your mind?"

"Oh," she pushed out. "I wasn't joking earlier. I really wasn't sure if you were dead, or if we were going to die—"

Edward shook his head with force, "No." The harsh tone and abrupt transformation of his features made Bella tense a little. "Sorry," he murmured, squeezing her hand. "Go on."

She nodded, letting her shoulders loosen. "You know how people talk about having their lives flash before their eyes?"

Edward's head nodded gravely.

"I'd thought of my memories of you as being delusions for so long, that even after seeing you again, knowing you were real, and what you are, I still didn't see them as real. Until today." She shuddered, remembering. "You've saved my life so many times. You've shown me you love me _so_ many times. When I thought today was it. . . . " Edward nodded once again as she struggled with saying it out loud but his gentle smile was encouraging. "Those memories, all those feelings, they overwhelmed all my stupid anger. And yes, I felt stupid being angry for so long."

"I gave you good reason to be more than angry, Bella."

She shook her head. "It's not good to hold onto anger like that. It changes people. I don't want to be angry with you anymore."

He sat up at a speed her eyes couldn't catch, and then lifted her gently, covers and all, back into his arms. "I don't want to ever let you go," he said into her hair.

"Me too," she breathed. Then her stomach gurgled. "But I should probably go eat something. I have a feeling it's going to take more than a sugar pill."

"Are you warm enough?" He asked.

"For now," she said, throwing the covers off and moving to get off the bed.

"Humour me?" he asked.

It felt so right, cocooned in his arms, she gave a quiet, "Okay," and put her head to his chest as he carried her downstairs and into the kitchen.

He started to deposit her in a chair, but she protested mildly. "I can get myself something."

"And so can I. Sit." He gave her a wink.

She decided she didn't need to have this battle. Not yet. Staying put, she watched him rifle through the fridge, giving herself permission to stroke, with her eyes, the lean lines of his arms and back. In these last weeks she still hadn't grasped what it was the made him look older. Now she studied his frame, and then his face when it glanced her way.

No, nothing, she concluded . . . and yet, something. His clothes were different, but it was more than that. Where she'd looked before, now she scrutinized—starting at his hair, which had been combed into an order she wanted badly to undo. There was that. Her eyes slid down his neck, noting the set of his shoulders. While he had once had the hint of an adolescent slouch, now his posture was confident, his back straight and tall, his muscles flexing as he moved at the counter. His actions were more purposeful too. He'd always had that, but now there was more to it—a self-assurance that animated his industrious hands. Then it clicked. It wasn't just him, it was in how she looked at him. She wasn't a girl anymore, and he wasn't a boy—he'd never been a boy. He was the man she'd only perceived under the guise of a boy.

"Anything you don't want?" he asked, interrupting her musings.

"Fruit is good. Crackers. No dairy or meat." Her stomach lurched, seconding her opinion of these last two items.

"Nuts?"

"Nuts are good." She paused, before adding. "Except when they're me."

It was beautiful, watching him grasp the self-deprecating joke. First confusion, then horror, then an actual roll of his eyes and a big grin on his face.

She smiled and chuckled a little.

He didn't hide his speed, and when he returned, it was to offer her a small plate of strawberries and almonds. Another brush of his fingers sent a ripple of gooseflesh up her arm.

His hands might be offering food, but his face was full of a hunger that made her blush. "Thank you," she murmured.

Edward's face became suddenly and shrewdly observing. Clinical. "You're not eating enough."

And there was that line of demarcation again.

"Oh-kay, Dr. Cullen," she said with emphasis, pushing herself up in the chair. "Back off and go find yourself your own patient. This one is squarely taken by a midwife."

He arched an eyebrow at this. "Do you have a midwife yet?"

Shit. No.

"Not yet," she evaded. "It's early still."

Edward started to open his mouth, but then closed it, studying her face. Then he sat down beside her, picking up her left hand, running the tips of his fingers over hers. "Will you call one?"

"I will," she said warily. She'd taken a few bites, and put the plate down beside her. He had seen and then stepped back over the boundary he'd crossed, but she needed to be clear. "I'm not seventeen anymore. I'm an adult now."

"I've noticed."

"Good, because adults—even one hundred and—" she searched for the number.

"One-hundred-and-fourteen," he supplied.

"Even one-hundred-and-fourteen-year-old vampires need to respect their human—" she wasn't sure of the word.

He ignored the omission. Instead, he picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, where he whispered a kiss over the tips of her fingers.

"Even aged vampire _doctors_?" he purred.

"Especially them."

"Hmm," Edward sighed. "Anything else I need to know?"

"I drive well. On my own."

"Yes, you do," he said, still nuzzling her hand.

"But feel free to help me change my snow-tires," she quipped, and tapped him on his nose, laughing.

He answered by leaning her back into the chair, pressing his lips to her neck. "Is that a metaphor for something else?"

When he detached himself abruptly, it left Bella with mental whiplash, finding Edward sitting primly beside her, his legs crossed casually. The rumble of small, but distant feet running in their direction explained the change.

He raised his eyebrows, mouthing, "Are you alright?"

"Very," she mouthed back, and then turned to brace herself for Josh's impact.

It never came.

Edward had snatched him up in the air. "Airplane!" he said, flying Josh around carefully above his head, soliciting delighted squeals.

Mer's arrival was much more sedate. "Esme said we could have a cookie after our snack!"

Esme cleared her throat from the doorway.

Meredith sighed and very nearly rolled her eyes. "If _you_ said it was okay. It's okay, right?"

"Yes, it is. Thank you for checking." Bella sent Esme a grateful look. Her children did not handle sugar well.

Esme's smile didn't seem to have an end.

While the children were distracted by their snack, Esme came and squeezed Bella's hand, her wordless joy so clear in her eyes. Bella realized that she had inadvertently given a powerful gift to Esme, this woman who had loved Edward for longer than Bella had been alive; she had brought happiness to her adopted son. It was a poignant realization, one that Bella wondered if only another mother could truly understand.

Carlisle wandered into the room and stood quietly just inside the doorway. His expression was unreadable, some sort of mixture there that Bella couldn't fathom. She would have wondered if he was having one of his silent conversations with Edward, but she realized he only had eyes for his wife at that moment

"What do you want to do?" Edward suddenly asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"About?"

"Dinner?" He smiled.

The expression was so blinding she could've been knocked over by a word.

"Is here alright?" Edward asked gently. Bella wondered fleetingly if he had intentionally dialed back the 'dazzle' of which she had always accused him before.

Esme spoke up. "Is spaghetti alright for the children? I have the ingredients here. I'm sorry, the sauce would be from a jar. It's supposed to be organic and no sugar, though, and I have some salad . . ."

She sounded so disappointed in herself, even though she had clearly gone out of her way to educate herself and buy something that would be safe for the kids that Bella immediately reassured her. "Oh Esme, some days it's all I can do to get a balanced meal on the table. That sounds great, thank you."

Esme beamed at her, and if Bella wasn't mistaken, might have tossed a self-satisfied glance at her husband before turning to the stove.

Bella wondered if it was okay to go home after they had dinner. Watching Josh happily munching on his cookie, she chewed on her lip. If they weren't home, she wasn't sure how he'd handle the change in routine and place.

"What is it?" Edward asked softly.

"Is my place safe?" she asked just as quietly.

He paused for a moment, obviously listening, before he answered. "It appears to be. Why?"

She breathed out a sigh of relief. "Just, bedtime routines." She looked at Josh.

Nodding, Edward's eyebrows pinched together, and she wondered what he kept silent.

Jasper and Alice had walked into the kitchen now, Bella only catching a glimpse of them as they smiled from a distance, holding each others' hands. Alice eventually pulled away, grinning widely at Bella, and then joining Meredith at the table. Josh greeted her with, "Sister!"

"Yeah," Alice said, "I'm Edward's sister."

"Man," Josh said, frowning as he corrected her.

To her credit, Alice kept a straight face, though Bella stifled a laugh. She suspected she wasn't the only one. "Yes," Alice said, "I'm 'Man's' sister."

This seemed to please Josh, who grinned through a mouthful of cookie.

Still smirking, Bella glanced at Edward's face and recognized his bemused expression. She couldn't control her chuckle then and squeezed his hand in apology, thinking it was a good thing Emmett wasn't here to tease his brother again.

"These are really yummy," Meredith said to Esme, turning to face her, wiping a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth, and then thriftily licking her hand.

"I'm glad you liked it," Esme said.

"May I please have another one?" Meredith asked sweetly.

Oh, how the manners could come out to play when they wanted something, Bella thought. "I think we're going to have dinner fairly soon, so not now."

Josh, however, seemed to have seized upon the key word in discussion, and having finished his own, piped up, "Cookie?" He looked around hopefully.

"They're all done for now," Bella said.

Clearly, they were not, because Josh pointed to the counter where a near-full plastic clamshell container sat.

"You've had your cookie," Edward said gently. "Those are for everyone else."

Meredith had pushed away from the table, and gone to look at the cookies, attempting to visually quantify them and the number of people in the room. "But there are lots left. Josh and I would only have one more."

Bella sighed, getting up and moving to kneel beside Meredith, quietly explaining that they'd have dinner soon, and could have a cookie afterwards, if Esme offered her one.

Esme set the cookies in one of the pantry cabinets and closed the door, murmuring, "I'll just put them away for now."

"Cookie!" Josh said, pointing to the cabinet, voice approaching a whine.

"The cookies are all done for now," Bella said again softly, knowing that repetition was key with Josh, especially when he was fully-focused on something. Looking around the kitchen, she tried to remember where she'd left her phone. There were a few games he liked to play on it, and she wondered if this might be interesting enough to distract him from his fixation on the cookies. "Let's—"

"COOKIE!" Joshua shrieked, jumping up and down, all his rage at this monstrous injustice appearing in his balled fists and taut limbs.

Edward appeared in front of Josh, kneeling, putting his hands out for Josh to take.

Josh ignored him, face reddening, peering around Edward's body, eyes squarely on the cabinet where the cookies had gone. Bella wondered if she could just take him out of the room so that the inevitable melt-down wouldn't happen with all the Cullens for an audience.

"May I help him?" Jasper asked Bella. She saw that he had quietly moved closer.

She was suddenly uncomfortable, knowing Jasper could feel every bit of unease she was feeling—anxiety, embarrassment—and hoping that he realized those feelings had nothing to do with him. He was simply offering to help her child, and she teetered on the edge of accepting, deliberating if this was skirting teaching Josh to manage his feelings—

"Only if you want," Jasper murmured, clearly respecting her boundaries.

She looked at Josh again, watching his little body was shake as he repeated "Cookie!" loudly and shrilly.

Edward's voice was low and soothing. "There can be a cookie later."

Bella didn't need mind-reading skills to know that he wasn't being heard. "Please," she said to Jasper, cringing. The request felt like a failure.

"He's really overwhelmed," Jasper said to her, but was directing his gaze at Josh. "There's been a lot of excitement today."

Then Josh stopped talking and stood still, blinking at Edward. At first, he just looked confused, but promptly started crying. He turned around, wrapping his arms around Bella's legs.

She caught sight of Meredith, who had a worried wrinkle in her little forehead.

Edward gently took Mer's hand and she turned to look at him. "It's not your fault." He spoke softly, but Bella caught it, and pulled in a breath, grateful that Edward would've heard her daughter's thoughts. Mer nodded at him.

"Not at all, Sweetie" Bella seconded. "It's okay. This is hard for your brother. He's learning though." She'd picked him up, setting his bum on the counter, letting him sob into her shirt.

Mer came close to her mother, a little hand gripping at her shirttail, so that Bella had Josh sobbing onto her chest, and Mer's face buried in her side. She rubbed at Josh's back and Meredith's head, and then said, "Maybe we can go watch a bit of TV before dinner?" She looked at Edward hopefully.

"Of course. TV?" he asked Josh.

Wiping his nose on Bella's shirt, Josh looked up at Edward. "Tee-bee?" he repeated, hiccoughing a little. "Cars?"

"I think we can find some cars on the TV, yes." Edward held out his hand as Bella stepped aside.

Josh didn't take the offered hand, but leaned forward with the profound trust only a toddler could possess, promptly falling from the counter. Before Bella could even reach for him, Edward caught him and settled him on his hip. Meredith took hold of Bella's hand, and they all walked downstairs to the family room.

At the bottom of the stairs, Josh squiggled out of Edward's grip, running ahead to jump onto the couch. Meredith followed.

In this private moment, Edward took Bella's hand, coming closer to whisper, "He really was overwhelmed. When he's like that, his mind is completely full of that one thing. It's like he can't sense anything else—even _you _are a flicker on the periphery.

A flicker, Bella thought. No, that didn't surprise her, but she did stop to wonder when Edward would've heard Josh like this before. She made a note to ask him later.

Meredith's quiet question interrupted her thoughts. "Can I sit with you?"

"Of course," Bella said, helping Meredith climb onto her lap as she sat down beside Edward. She put her arms around her daughter and gave her a squeeze. Josh commanded so much of her time that there was a near-constant layer of guilt when it came to finding places to have moments with her oldest. She had the sudden and welcome thought that it might become a little easier now.

When she saw that Jasper had followed them, Bella was grateful. She mouthed a silent, "How's he doing?" to Jasper.

He answered with his hand held out flat, wavering a little from side to side.

That explained his continued presence. "Thank you," she said quietly.

She saw Jasper dip his head as he pretended to watch Edward flick through channels.

Edward looked at Meredith before he spoke. "Meredith, how about we let the youngest person choose the first show, and then the second youngest person choose the next one?"

"Okay." Meredith said. "That means I pick next." She added this with all the authority an almost-five-year-old could muster. Edward smiled and nodded his head as he turned back to the tv.

Bella watched in wonder. She would have suggested the exact same thing to her children. While she reminded herself that Edward might have had many opportunities to interact with children in the ten years they'd spent apart, not to mention decades of overhearing the thoughts of people of all ages, it was still a surprise to see how well he communicated with Mer and Josh.

Mer snuggled deeper against Bella's chest, her limbs tellingly heavy. Peeking at her daughter's face, Bella saw the signs of weariness there. It didn't surprise her. Her children were perceptive, and while they might not have understood the gravity of what had happened in the last hours, they could read enough in the postures and faces around them to know that something troubling had transpired. When Meredith yawned, Bella's body mimicked the action. She was weary too. The day had been an emotional cyclone.

Josh pointed excitedly when Edward found the right channel, and then bounced himself up and down on Edward's legs as he focused on the screen. He was clearly leaving the cookie incident behind, with Jasper's help.

Bella let her head tip back on the couch, closing her eyes. She didn't plan to fall asleep, but it was easy to tell herself she'd just close her eyes for a moment.

When she woke some time later, it was with a startled jerk, registering the sound of Josh's high-pitched shriek.

Snapping herself upright, she stopped moving when her eyes made sense of the scene in front of her. Edward was kneeling on the floor, holding Josh, who was repeating a high-pitched, "Ouchie!" to him, and holding out his hand. A thin streak of blood painted its way down to his palm, and beside him lay the shattered pieces of a delicate glass figurine.

Jasper was still perched on the chair a few feet way, face tense with concentration.

Still in Bella's lap, Meredith stared at the television, oblivious to both her brother's sounds and her mother's growing fear and panic.

"It's just a little ouchie. We'll put a bandaid on it," Edward was saying to Josh.

Bella's gaze swung wildly between Josh and Jasper, her hands trembling.

"Everything's alright," Edward said to her without looking up.

An eerie wave of calm slid over her.

"I'm fine too." Jasper's voice was gentle. When she looked at him, he smiled a little.

"Carlisle, perhaps you can grab me a bandaid?" Edward said. "There are some in my bag with cars on them."

Through the stairway balusters, Bella caught sight of Carlisle's feet as they moved silently down the treads. The rest of him appeared, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on Jasper, but his expression portrayed his usual calm

She followed Carlisle's gaze and watched Jasper's lips move, but she didn't hear anything. What was he saying? She turned to Edward and his lips were moving silently too, his jaw tense. He wasn't looking at Jasper, though, but was turned away from him and focused on the boy in his arms.

Carlisle slipped around the corner, and then returned with a bandaid and an antiseptic wipe in his hand.

Edward took the proferred items, and had cleaned the cut and deftly applied the bandage to Josh's finger almost before Bella could blink. "Better?" he asked Josh. He glanced anxiously towards Bella. She still hadn't moved but she watched as Carlisle walked over to Jasper and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze

Recovered from his upset, Josh squirmed down to the floor from Edward's lap and then bounced on his toes. "Tee-bee!" he said, pointing. "Cars!" he added as he caught sight of the bandaid on his finger. He trotted over to show off his prize to Carlisle, who knelt down beside him to admire it up close.

Bella sat, grappling with the aftermath of her shock. Josh was fine, she told herself as she watched him. Yes. Fine. Then she looked at Jasper, who remained unnaturally still in his seat. She felt Meredith slide off her lap to sit beside her, eyes still glued to the screen a few feet away.

"I'm so sorry," Edward said to Bella. "That happened very quickly." He picked up the pieces of glass, stuffing them in his pocket, and then stood, moving two other glass figurines to a high shelf on the cabinet. "I should've been more careful—"

Bella shook her head, mouth dry as she tried to believe the words she made herself say. "It's okay. That's the way things tend to happen with Josh—quickly." Her nervous smile flickered at the corners and disappeared.

Jasper chuckled, and Edward looked sharply to him.

Bella looked at him too, wondering how he could laugh, knowing what she was feeling. Shouldn't _he_, out of everyone, be able to feel the magnitude of her emotions?

"Regular exposure," Jasper said softly, clearly reading the question that must have been on her face. "After . . . before, I didn't want to be the weak link." He smiled apologetically.

Bella smiled the same way, not sure what to say, or what to think of what 'regular exposure' meant, although she didn't miss Carlisle's momentary smile. She couldn't wave away the consequence of Jasper's actions those many years ago, but he seemed so calm now, so sure—

"I apologize for before. I didn't mean to diminish what you've accomplished," Edward said to Jasper. "Thank you for helping Josh again."

Jasper shrugged at his brother, nodding to Bella as he stood up. "I think everyone should be alright on their own," he said, lifting his chin to the children. "And I wouldn't mind some air." He moved silently up the stairs, and Carlisle excused himself to follow.

"Are you alright?" Edward mouthed to Bella.

She nodded, still processing what she'd seen.

He sat down and put an arm around her, drawing her away from Mer so that they could whisper to each other out of the children's hearing. "It was . . . difficult for Jasper for a long time after we left. He really has worked very hard since then. I'm not sure I gave him enough credit until today."

"You were . . . talking him down before?" She didn't want to use the word 'warning'.

Edward nodded. "Unnecessarily, as it turns out. I should have had more faith in him."

When she didn't say anything to this, he added, "You're safe with us. All of us."

Bella nodded gratefully. Now that the surprise and panic of the moment was over, a sense of relief began to take its place. While she'd tried not to let it be at the forefront of her mind, as it wasn't something over which she had much control, it had been a worry that lived in the shallow recesses of her thoughts ever since the Cullens' return. While there were many other obstacles to being with Edward, this was one that was now gone, and perhaps it meant that others could be overcome too.


	20. A Man's Wants

A/N for 2019-06-06: Beta'd by the amazing Eeyorefan12, who prunes my characters down to size and keeps me from running amok with the plot.

It remains, as always, delightful to hear from you all. If you feel so inclined, tell me what line or part that tickled you most.

\- Erin

* * *

Later that evening, Edward drove them home in her car, politely obeying the speed limit almost the entire way. When they arrived, it was late for the children's bedtime.

"I'm really glad it's the weekend," Bella sighed, stretching her arms skyward as she stood on the sidewalk.

Edward smiled. "Me too."

"Says the man who doesn't even need a job." she teased, resisting an eye roll.

"Who says I don't need a job?" His voice was pure innocence, and this time she did roll her eyes, but he kept talking. "I have a very important job, actually . . . several of them. Let's see . . ." He leaned against the car and started ticking things off on his fingers. "Chauffeur, bodyguard, personal physician . . ." He let his voice trail off as he gave her a mischievous smirk. "Shall I go on?"

She couldn't help her answering smile but shook her head. "No, thank you. I need to get the kids to bed. But, if I were you, I would talk with my boss about a raise because I think someone is taking advantage of you."

Edward's grin could have lit up the night sky. "Maybe I _like _being 'taken advantage' of."

"Mommy?" said a groggy voice from the back seat.

When she turned towards the rear of the car, Edward got there first, nimbly unbuckling Josh, and then picking him up.

Josh patted Edward's shoulder. "Ice cream," he said, testing it again with his fingers.

"Cold," Edward corrected him. "I feel cold."

Meredith came up to Edward and prodded his hand with her index finger. "Why are you cold? Alice is too."

"Poor circulation," he sighed. Then he gently poked her hand back. "Yours seems excellent, though."

Without further comment or question, Meredith skipped inside, and Bella breathed out a small breath of relief. She marveled at the ease with which all the Cullens could excuse their differences but these little moments still concerned her. The secret was safe for now.

For how much longer, she wasn't sure. She tucked the worry away.

When the children were in bed, Bella and Edward sat down together on one of the couches in the living room. It felt strange to just be sitting calmly with him, the high feeling and tension of the day having faded a little. Now they were together in more than one sense of the word, and Bella was beginning to grapple with the practical implications of that.

"Edward," Bella began, "I have to ask you about something. I know you didn't want to talk about it before, but things have changed a lot, so—"

"I'll answer," he assured her, a thumb brushing over her fingers.

"You said the Volturi came to check on you."

His thumb stopped moving.

"Yes." The word left his lips reluctantly.

"Will they come again?" she asked.

"There's a very, very small chance of it, but Alice will see, if they do."

Bella nodded, but she knew she must still looked confused. "But she doesn't see everything. She didn't see what happened to Matt."

There was a gentle squeeze over her hand. "No."

They sat in the evening's quiet, the soft whoosh of traffic, and the air from the furnace fan a low hum around them.

"How does this work?" Bella finally asked. "You won't age, and we can move, sure, in time, but how do we explain this to the children?" There were so many other questions she had, but this seemed the greatest at the moment. "Because if they say something to the wrong person, and people begin to suspect—"

"I think," he began softly, "that you underestimate how trusting children are, and how difficult they find it to judge an adult's age."

"Mer is—"

"Very perceptive, as is Joshua," Edward finished for her. "No doubt. But they also think of all adults as being old. They don't distinguish between you and Charlie."

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Really," he smiled. "That won't be a problem for some time, and even then, there are ways around it."

"How?"

He chuckled. "Make-up."

The thought of Edward wearing make-up made her head spin. She settled for giving it a quick shake. "Okay," she said, sighing.

He'd snuck both her hands into his by this point. "What else is troubling you?"

"That obvious?" she asked.

"Yes." There was that dazzling smile again.

She was still an open book to him.

"It's so good just to be with you," she whispered. "I just want to enjoy that. I wish I could. But I can't. I'm worried about the children, and keeping them safe from . . . bad things, and from . . ." she struggled for the courage to say it. "I know what you said, but I'm still afraid you'll leave again."

She heard him take a deep breath, and she knew she was holding hers as she looked down at their linked hands. One of his slipped away, gently brushing at her chin. When she met his eyes, his face wore as much worry as she felt.

"How can I assure you that will not happen? Because it won't. Ever."

"I don't think you can."

"There must be something I can do."

"I really don't know, Edward." She shifted in her seat, the small lump in her abdomen pressing uncomfortably. "I think it will just take time. Like me and car trips," she added.

Now he looked at her quizzically.

"I try to avoid letting the kids drive anywhere with anyone but me now. I mean, I know with Matt . . ." she stopped speaking for a moment. "I know it wasn't an accident, but it isn't like the reaction is a logical one. If I'm with my children then there's no waiting at home wondering where anyone is, and there won't be . . ." she had to take a deep breath, "If we aren't apart, I can't be afraid of a knock at the door, of it being the police again."

The eruption of tears was violent and unwanted, lasting several minutes.

"Sorry," she finally whispered into his shoulder, pulling back.

His embrace loosened slowly. "Don't be. You've been through a lot the last few months and lost someone . . . dear to you. Today, especially, has been long and difficult. This is who you are, and I love you."

She wiped at her eyes. She had to tell him. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark. "Don't be so sure."

His face pinched. "What do you mean by that?"

"I know you know about my breakdown—"

"You didn't have a breakdown."

She shook her head. "It's what everyone thinks I've gone through, and it's what I thought I went through. I'm still not so sure all of it was a misdiagnosis."

Edward frowned but didn't interrupt, giving her all his attention.

"I've had relapses," she said. "After I had Mer, and Josh."

"Full relapses?"

There was that doctor's voice again.

"No." She held back her small smile. He was so much the same as before, but so different too. "I started having . . . episodes, I'd suppose you call them. Neither of the psychiatrists thought they were full relapses, but both were concerned enough to restart my medication—"

"While you were nursing?"

She held up her hand.

"Sorry," he murmured, and pressed his lips together.

She thought about how to describe what she'd experienced. Matt had tried to be patient, but she'd always felt like she'd failed to convey just how real her experiences had been. "After each birth, I'd have these episodes where I'd vividly imagine bad things happening to my children or to Matt. I couldn't control it. The thoughts would come out of nowhere. The worst part, though, wasn't just imagining these awful things, but how real they felt emotionally. I wouldn't just see the tragedy, I'd feel it, like a little grief bomb going off. Sometimes it would happen every day, or I'd go weeks without having one. They've faded over time, but I still get them."

Edward's face was pained. He squeezed her fingers. "Not that it makes them any easier to endure, but those are completely normal postpartum. Didn't anyone tell you that?"

"My doctors didn't think so," she said quietly, eyes down.

Edward sat thinking, his thumb back to that gentle brushing motion. "Your doctors were poorly trained," he muttered. Then the stroking stopped again, and he shifted to fully face her. "Were you afraid I was going to leave, after you told me this?"

"I told everyone your secret, Edward. You keep saying I'm fine, that I wasn't crazy, but I lost it after Jacob died. You might have been wrong to leave, but I gave you plenty of grounds to stay away."

"Were you afraid I was going to leave _now_, after you told me this?" he asked again.

She could only nod.

"Never again," he whispered, abandoning her hand and pulling her to him.

She buried her face in his shirt, fingers clutching the fabric. Did she really get to keep him in her life?

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured into her hair, almost as if he had heard her question to herself.

The tension in her chest eased, and she continued to lean against him, breathing in his scent, relishing in his touch. After a few minutes, she struggled to keep her eyes open. She yawned as she pulled away, quickly putting a hand over her mouth to cover it. "Sorry, it's not the company."

"You're tired."

"Very," she mumbled, stifling another yawn.

When he picked her up, she gasped at the sudden movement. "I can walk," she protested, but weakly.

"Of course you can," he said, moving towards the stairs. "But that would mean letting you go, and I have no interest in doing that until you tell me to." He caught her mischievous look and added, "Please don't."

She sighed into his chest, letting her body sway with the rhythm of his steps.

At the bedroom door, he stopped, but made no move to enter, as if he was waiting for direction.

"Are you, um, staying?" she asked. They hadn't talked about those logistics yet. She didn't think he would go far, if he did leave, but—

"Are you _asking_ me to stay?"

"Yes." The word practically jumped from her mouth.

"Okay." His reply came with a grin. "Do you need . . . a human moment?" His tone was hesitant and she realized he was concerned how she would take his teasing question when it was so reminiscent of their past. She realized, though, that the memory was a good one.

"Sure," she said, slipping down to stand on her own. "Give me a sec."

She stripped out of her clothes quickly, dropping them in the hamper by Matt's dresser. Pulling on a tank top and shorts, she yanked the door open.

Edward was leaning against the wall, arms folded casually across his chest. The pose should have been relaxed, but his posture was anything but casual. When their eyes met, his very black ones were full of something she hadn't seen there before.

The dark gaze pinned her to the spot.

This was not the same boy she'd slept beside ten years ago. And she wasn't the same girl.

This was a man, with a man's appearance, and a man's wants.

She swallowed nervously, a swirl of desire and something like panic tangling in her gut.

Don't be ridiculous, she told herself, this is Edward: the inexperienced boyfriend who'd barely kiss you for fear of killing you. _Nothing_ is going to happen.

Then Edward stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and brought their lips together.

It disrupted all her expectations. If the kiss hours before had been a fire, then this one was an explosion.

His touch had always ignited feeling, and this time was no exception. She hooked her arms around him, and reacquainted herself with the smooth skin and lean muscle of his torso and back.

His hands travelled freely, visiting first the curve of her hips, kneading gently, then sliding up to her chest where they splayed around her rib cage, nudging at the underside of the soft flesh they found there.

When her knees jellied, Edward's arms swept under them, carrying her to the bed where the kisses continued. His fingers became more precise in their destinations, curling around her arms, her face, and then the rounded curve of her breasts.

She felt drunk under his touch, but the desire and the anxiety persisted together, each pulling at her with equal force.

It was when his hips turned towards her that she realized just what kind of effect she was having on him.

This hard flesh had nothing to with him being a vampire, and everything to do with how he wanted her.

Stunned by the realization, she barely registered his mouth at her neck, or its slow descent to her clavicle, and then to the space between her breasts.

He wasn't stopping. At all.

No, this was definitely not the boy she'd known ten years ago.

That final understanding broke her out of her bewildered musings.

"Edward, wait." She pushed at his stony chest.

He pulled back immediately, his face stiff with worry and something else she couldn't name. Like her, he was still breathing quickly, although she knew it had nothing to do with a lack of oxygen.

"I'm so sorry. That was completely unacceptable." He was shaking his head, possibly at himself, before his expression changed to one of alarm. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm just—" She tried to think. To find words. Her blood was occupied in too many other places. "Before, you never—"

"Never showed you how much I wanted you?" He shook his head. "A decade is a long time to regret being stupid, Bella."

She stared, trying to comprehend this Edward.

"I hurt you so much before. Leaving was the last and the worst, but rejecting you, making you feel unwanted. I was an idiot, Bella. I've had ten years to realize just how cruel that was. I should have trusted myself more, gone to Carlisle or the Denalis for advice . . . something. Later, I swore that I wouldn't be so stupid again if there was ever a chance for us."

She would've laughed at this ridiculous irony if it didn't make her want to cry. He wasn't afraid of hurting her, and now _she_ was afraid, in so many different ways.

"I can't," she said. "I'm not—I can't yet." She huffed out a breath. It was full of nerves, anxiety, and frustration.

"I'm not asking for that right now—or _ever_, Bella, if that's your wish. I wouldn't ever expect or demand that from you. I just—before, you were . . ."

"I was a lot younger then, Edward. I had no idea how . . ." she hated to use the word, "how dangerous this," she gestured between them, "could be."

Edward's face fell, features creased with remorse. "I know what I said then, Bella, but I was wrong—"

"Maybe," she said. "I don't just mean physically."

He sat back on his heels, fingers finding hers again. "Forgive me, I've been incredibly foolish this evening—I have no excuse."

Her instinct was to explain away his behaviour, but she'd worked hard to become comfortable with uncomfortable truths. "Thank you for telling me all of that." she said gently. "I know we'll talk more about this but, I'm . . . well, it's nice to know why you held back so much before. I _do _want this with you, Edward. But, we've been apart for so long. A lot of things have changed."

"Of course," he said. His chagrin was easy to see, even in the room's dim light.

Even though she was still grappling with what he'd revealed, a small glimmer of happiness had taken up residence inside her. He'd learned from his mistakes and wasn't afraid to admit them.

She smiled, thinking of this.

"What's making you smile?" he asked.

"You," she said. "You've changed."

"Then you've changed me," he said.

"No, I think you've grown. We both have. I'm looking forward to seeing how else."

She saw him struggle to contain a grin, but he finally gave up just as Bella realized the double-meaning of the words she had uttered. She felt herself blush, which only widened his smile. She gave his shoulder a half-hearted little slap before losing the battle with her own embarrassed smile.

Then he sighed a little. "I should let you get some sleep." He turned to get off the bed.

"No stay!" she said quickly. "Please—" then she wondered if he could, or if it was too much. Looking at his eyes, she said, "Unless it's uncomfortable for you," thinking he must need to hunt. Wondering if it would be too much to be near her, without there being more.

"Why would it be uncomfortable?" Edward asked.

"Your eyes," she said, not wanting to point out her other concern.

"Ah." he said, "I'm fine."

Was he?

"But when your eyes are so black—"

"Yes, they do darken when we're hungry, but there are other things we can hunger for, besides blood."

It took her a moment to grasp his meaning.

"Oh." She dropped her gaze to her lap. Well, that was . . . interesting.

She continued staring at her hands for a moment, not quite sure what she wanted to say after that revelation. Edward was quiet, waiting.

"No struggles with . . _. that_, then?" She finally asked. After all, he had stopped the second she had asked him to before, not to mention having spent the night in her bed while she slept all those years ago without incident. Of course, that had not been this older, seemingly more confident-in-his-control Edward. This _hungrier _Edward.

"I promise to behave like the mature gentleman I am," Edward assured her. While she was relieved he hadn't taken offense at her question, her other musings continued. She watched as an impish look crossed his face. "Even though _I'm _still 17."

She let a little chuckle out at this playful comment, but the tension stayed in her shoulders. The unwelcome thought had struck her that perhaps his certainty around such activities being safe came from experience, rather than confidence. She could hardly have expected him _not_ to have had a relationship with someone. Ten years had passed. She'd had Matt . . . and Edward had been determined that he would never come back to her.

Suck it up and just ask him, she scolded herself.

But it took a moment of chewing her lip before she could, and even then, she began her question indirectly. "You seem very confident in your new . . . opinions." God, if she wasn't the world's biggest chicken.

Edward cocked his head to the side, like he was trying to understand.

"Um, I mean . . . that you seem so sure sex would be safe. I was wondering if that came from . . . um, personal experience." Her face felt warm and she hoped she wasn't blushing again. Why the hell was this so awkward? It wasn't like _she _was a virgin.

"No," he rushed out. "Not at all." He watched her for a moment, looking like he was collecting his thoughts. "It's just that when I realized how overbearing I'd been, I saw all the many different ways I'd underestimated you. And underestimated myself, too."

Bella's eyes hadn't left his face, studying his features as the words left his mouth. "So, you haven't—"

"I've never had sex with anyone, Bella."

She felt inexplicably foolish then, for having brought it up.

His fingers brushed her cheek. "I'm not bothered that you asked." They were soft words. Forgiving words.

She smiled a little, wishing she didn't feel so sheepish for having broached the subject. It was all so surreal, discussing such things with him.

"Of course," Edward continued, "though I haven't been with anyone in that way, I have been reluctantly privy to the thoughts of many, _many_ people, both vampire and human, as they pertain to the subject." Edward said this drily, pulling a small smile from Bella. "It's not the same as direct experience, but I wouldn't offer you something I thought was a risk."

As she tried to consider his words, she realized after a while that she was just drowsily blinking at him and that he was giving her a knowing look that reminded her of Alice.

"Bella, please rest. You're exhausted."

There was no reason to argue, and several for agreeing. "I really do need to sleep. Josh will be up early." She craned her neck a little, as if she could see around the corner, to where he rested in what was technically his room. Matt had set up a toddler bed there, which Josh had promptly refused to use, favouring the playpen in their room. He'd made no fuss when Edward put him in the bed tonight, though.

"He's still asleep," Edward assured her. "And I will get up with him."

Despite her exhaustion, Bella laughed softly. "You are every mother's fantasy: a man who gets up with the kids."

"Ah, another job to add to my list. Not sleeping has its advantages," he quipped back. "But you should."

She wondered if it was asking too much for him to hold her.

Deciding it was, she got under the covers.

Edward stayed on top of them, but he brought an arm around her. "Tell me if you get too cold."

"Okay," she breathed out, feeling herself fall into the first stages of sleep. The coolness behind her was soothing. As she tipped over the edge of solomnent oblivion, she fleetingly wondered to what new possibilities she would awaken.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	21. Fill Your Boots

Posted 2019/06/12. A bevy of thanks to the remarkable eeyorefan12, who has put in many, many hours into editing this tale. ~ Erin

* * *

It was Sunday. She, Edward, and the children had spent Saturday together, and then he'd stayed the night again.

She'd asked him once again if he needed to hunt.

"I'm fine. I promise," he assured her.

Then she left it, deciding to trust him instead.

A small bag of Edward's things had been in Bella's kitchen when she'd woken Saturday morning and gone downstairs. She had lifted an eyebrow at it—and at Edward, who was dressed casually in jeans.

He had shrugged. "Alice brought it by earlier," he'd said. "Apparently, I am not to look rumpled in your presence."

Bella had snorted at this pronouncement. She suspected his going to the park in yesterday's less-than-crisp shirt and slacks would've looked too out of place, anyway. His otherworldly beauty already drew eyes wherever he went.

She fought the urge to pinch herself, everytime she caught a glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

It helped that he stayed so physically close, almost always a brush of fingers away with his hand in hers or at her waist.

She loved it.

He'd been good to his word on both mornings, taking Joshua downstairs and getting him breakfast. Today he'd even convinced Josh to don weather-appropriate clothing.

Would miracles ever cease?

Josh and Mer had run off to play in the fort of couch cushions they'd made in the living room, leaving Bella and Edward at the kitchen table.

"He understands that he doesn't need to speak to me to be heard," Edward said, looking at her. "I've explained that we can only do this when we're alone, or with you or my family. Mer hasn't noticed yet."

Bella nodded nervously, sipping at her tea. It wasn't like Josh could communicate this secret to anyone else, at least not verbally.

Edward's next question caught her completely off guard.

"Have you ever thought about therapy for him?"

"There's nothing wrong with him!" she shot back, cringing as the words left her. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Sorry. People—"

"Are judgemental idiots. You're right: there's nothing wrong with him. I'm just thinking the right kind of therapy could help him talk."

She opened her eyes a crack. "What kind of therapy?"

"Working with a speech and language pathologist, or a behavioural consultant. There are other options too, but those are the most common."

And they were all expensive, and not covered by her benefits, or the very reasonable healthcare she enjoyed in Canada.

Sighing, she said, "I can't afford it right now—"

"You don't need to," Edward frowned. "I can—"

"No," Bella said, shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"Because . . ." she started. Because you might leave, she thought, and then where will I be?

"Why, Bella?"

She shook her head. "I'll think about it."

Wisely letting the topic lapse, Edward stood, clearing the dishes off the table.

She decided she liked the newer and more mature Edward Cullen. A lot.

Standing up, she went and rifled through the pile of papers on the island, sorting them into the urgent, and less urgent. Using her phone, she finally paid the gas bill and the late charge, tapping in a reminder for the next month's bill. The next piece of paper was her car's repair bill. She didn't so much sigh, as breathe out slowly. She needed to figure out how to pay it. Soon. Its appearance had decimated all her careful budgeting. She'd just have to use the line of credit she and Matt had set up for the house renovations.

When she glanced up, she caught Edward's eyes grazing over the various envelopes and bills, and then her.

Clearing her throat, she spoke before he could say anything about the paperwork in front of her.

"Edward, is it just me, or do you actually look older?" she asked.

"I don't think I do."

She squinted at him again but still saw the differences. "You do, but the rest of your family doesn't."

"We don't age," he reminded her, coming to stand beside her at the counter. "Perhaps you see me differently."

"I think I do, yes, but I wondered if it was more than that."

Now he leaned forward, clearly interested. "How do you see me differently?"

Her heart sped up, having him come close. "I was younger before. It was easy to see you for your seventeen-year-old self, because I was that age too. And, I know you and your family worked hard to look like you belonged in high school. Now though, I can't get over how I missed all the ways you're not seventeen—the way you carry yourself, the way you move. How you're so . . . purposeful. Focused."

And still incredibly beautiful, alluring, and unethically stunning.

His proximity and gaze were uncomfortably intense. She looked away first, tapping her fingers the stack of papers. "Anyways, what did Charlie think when he saw you?"

Edward leaned back a little, eyeing her before he spoke. "He's hard to hear. Nothing overt, that I recall. Although, I don't think my appearance was foremost in his mind, at the time." He gave her that crooked smile she loved.

"Maybe it's just me," she mumbled, moving back to the table.

He followed, kissing her fingers as she sat down.

She sighed a little, though not for any reason to do with him, glancing at her work bag.

"What?" he asked.

She chuckled. "I have papers to mark, and as much as I'm enjoying you, the kids are having fun, and I should get a couple of these done before things unravel in there."

"Want some help?" he asked.

She snorted. Derisively.

"What, you think I can't handle some high school essays?"

Bella was rifling through her work bag, pulling out a file. "Oh, I don't doubt your capacity, but when they ask me why someone else's writing is all over their papers, I might find that difficult to explain."

"Then I'll write in your hand."

She paused, reminding herself that she shouldn't be surprised by what he could do. By what they could all do. Still, she asked. "You can imitate my handwriting?"

His face fell and he was quiet for a long moment. "Very well," he finally said softly. "Didn't you wonder how your father knew where to look for you? That day in the woods?"

She hadn't. "No."

They both became still for a moment, Bella studying the table and her file, Edward scrutinizing her. Or his past mistakes. "Perhaps I can put my skills to better use today?" he asked quietly, reaching over and taking one of the folders. "Seeing as I've managed to hobble your dominant hand anyway." He glanced at her hand, which was now in the light brace he had fitted her with before they had left the Cullens two days ago. It felt much better but was going to be stiff for a while.

Bella recovered herself and gave him a little smile. "Fill your boots, but maybe show me the first few papers you mark?"

"Yes'm," he demurred, taking the proffered pen.

After watching Bella scribble some notes onto the page, Edward conferred with her on the required comments. They marked together quietly, the sounds in the living room reassuringly soft and happy.

"You said that to Jasper too. 'Fill your boots.' You never did before. Is that a newly-acquired Canadianism?" Edward asked lightly.

She smiled, remembering. "Something Matt used to say. He was Canadian, from the East coast," she added, her expression slipping a little. "Sorry," she muttered, shaking her head rapidly.

"Why are you sorry?"

She chewed on her lip, mulling over the question that had been niggling at her in the last few days. She loved Edward. She knew in her heart that she always had. There was no doubt in her mind now of her feelings for him. But, she'd loved Matt too. And it had only been a few months since his death. She felt uneasy, being with Edward, like she'd short-changed Matt on . . . what, her grief? Did one owe their spouse a prescribed debt of sadness?

And now that she had this unbelievable happiness—no, this _rightness_ with Edward—it felt too good to be true. Of course, it was tempered with very real worries: Victoria, for starters, a host of real life practicalities with which they'd eventually have to contend, telling Charlie . . .

Then there was the deep worry that underscored everything: that somehow she would lose Edward again..

And feeding into that sense of worry was this question: would talking about Matt drive Edward away?

But if he was really going to stay, and they were to have a real life together, they both needed to be free to talk about their pasts.

"It's complicated," she started.

"Try me," he encouraged her. "I seem to be keeping up on other, wildly-complicated fronts." He held up the worst of the papers they'd discussed so far.

Despite her mood, Bella laughed. This faded, as she went to speak again. "I was wondering how you felt about me talking about Matt."

"You loved him, Bella. If you want to talk about him, I want to hear it."

She had to pause and only breathe for a moment. The pregnancy made her tears a near thing. "I have a hard time believing you wouldn't feel jealous."

"Why?"

"Because I'd feel that way about anyone you'd been with." There, she'd said it. When it came down to it, she was a shallow, vain and jealous creature. God, it sucked.

But the expression on Edward's face when she dared to look him in the eye said he disagreed with her assessment of herself. If anything, he looked pleased at her words . . . and maybe slightly embarrassed.

"I'd like to say that I've never felt jealous of what you had with Matt, but I have. Of course I have. The difference is that you've given me a second chance, and what's happened before isn't what's happening now. We're here. I love you. And because I love you, if you need or want to talk about your husband, then I want you to. I mean that Bella. Please don't ever censor yourself because you think it might hurt my feelings.

A different man indeed.

Bella nodded in acknowledgement of his assurances and tried to think of the best place to start.

"Matt was funny," she said. "He made me laugh like Jake did." The words slipped from her quickly, and were met with a smile.

"I'm glad," Edward said.

The world didn't end, and Edward's eyes remained gently trained on her as he smiled in encouragement.

So she asked the next, harder question: "I know you said you hadn't . . . slept with anyone but . . . was there anyone while we were apart?"

"No," Edward said. "No one."

"Not even—" she started, thinking of the Denali coven.

"No one," Edward said gently, but firmly.

But _she'd_ had someone. Had he really been alone all that time?

She heard Edward chuckle and realized that she'd lost herself in thought again. It was becoming a common occurrence. He cocked his head towards the stack in front of her. "Do you really want to mark those right now?"

"No," she sighed, "But I should get them back to the kids this week, and I'll have more work coming in." While she loved the students, and relished the literature, the marking was a whole other beast.

"Why don't you let me finish marking them, then? It wouldn't take me long."

"I'm sure you could, but you know, it's kinda my job. I do need to know what they're able to do."

"And from where I stand, the complications I've brought into your life are disrupting your ability to do your job." He lifted his eyebrows.

"Probably."

"So let me make that up. Besides, I think you'd rather go play with your children." He gave her a sly smile, "And me."

"True," she said, chuckling. "Fill your boots," she added, handing over only half of her remaining papers.

He rolled his eyes. "Control freak."

Laughing at his comment, Bella put her share of papers away and led Edward to the living room, where Josh and Mer had expanded their fort with the sheets from Bella's bed.

That night in bed, Bella was sighing out a happy breath when he spoke.

"I need to hunt tonight."

"Okay." It was just hunting, she told herself. He'd be back. Saying it was one thing. Believing it was another. She hadn't realized until that moment how anxious she'd been about talking with him about Matt and what his reaction would be.

"Do you want me to wait until you're at work?"

"No," she whispered, trailing her fingers over his hands. "You should go tonight."

"I'll wait until you're asleep."

This known, sleep settled slowly, and she kept clinging to the edges of wakefulness and to Edward's fingers, flinching up from slumber whenever her dreams reminded her of his leaving.


	22. Measures of Success

A/N for 2019-06-20: A bevy of thanks to my beta Eeyorefan12 for the many hours she puts into editing this story.

The scene with the woman at the daycare actually happened to me last year. It was cathartic to write it out here!

It means a lot to hear your thoughts in response to this tale.

~ Erin

* * *

Not for the first time, Bella wondered what Mrs. Cho's neighbours thought. Or the people walking their dog, passing by the fence. Or anyone whose route took them by the unassuming little house at this early and sunny hour of the morning.

"NO!" Joshua shrieked, pulling at his jacket while attempting to kick off his shoes. "NO!" He punctuated this by rocking his stiff body back and forth in Bella's arms.

"I know, I know," she said quietly. "We can take off your jacket inside."

"NO!" he answered, still fighting her hold, his clothes, and the direction they were moving in.

Meredith waited calmly by the gate, kicking at the dandelions sprouting in the grass.

Sweating from the effort, Bella hoisted Josh up closer to her shoulder.

Mrs. Cho was waiting, lollipop in hand.

"Hi Josh!" she said.

"NO!" Josh roared back to her.

She held the lollipop up higher, so he could see it.

Josh kept screaming his singular word.

Meredith skipped ahead to the toys in the room off the entranceway. Bella deposited Josh on the tile floor as gently as possible. "Do you want me to take your jacket off?" she asked, aiming for a calm tone, but keeping her voice loud enough to be heard over his screaming.

"OFF!" he choked out, crying.

Once he was free of the jacket, he turned over, sobs making his little body shake. Then he uttered a hoarse, "Man."

Bella sighed. She'd hoped to see Edward before work, but he had called to let her know he had roamed a bit further than he'd planned, following a lead on Victoria with Jasper. The trail had dissolved at the water, leaving them far from home, and far from where he wanted to be—by her side. At the time, she'd told Edward that she had everything in hand. And she had . . . then. "We'll see Man later, okay?"

The sobs only intensified.

"Go," Mrs. Cho said, smiling, rubbing his back, "S'okay. He be okay."

Bella had every confidence in Mrs. Cho. Normally her children were happy to arrive at her home and sad to leave, but some days there was no convincing Josh of arriving in anything but a distressed fit.

Nodding, she blew Meredith a kiss, and then said to both of them, "I love you. See you later." As she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath, telling herself that her children would be fine.

They would be fine. More importantly, they would be safe.

Glancing around, she wondered where her current bodyguards were keeping themselves. She'd have to ask them later. The day's clear skies meant they would need to be carefully concealed.

At the gate, a woman had paused, cigarette dangling, eyeing Bella. When she went to walk past the stranger, the woman mumbled something.

"Pardon?" Bella asked, patting her pockets, wondering if she'd dropped something.

"That make you proud?" the woman repeated.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Bella asked, "Does what make me proud?"

"Dragging your child in there like that?"

The air hissed in through Bella's lungs along with a vibrant wave of anger. She stared at the woman, who took another drag of her cigarette, and stared right back.

Bella considered, in this tense moment, the many different words she could use to answer this woman.

But you are a teacher, the voice of reason said, and those words could get you in big trouble. You're also a mother, and your children might be watching.

And finally-you still have a file with the Ministry for Children and Family Development. It was this last point that made her reach for one of the many coping mechanisms she had been taught.

Taking a deep breath and then slowly letting it out, Bella growled out, "You don't know anything about my life or my children," and then walked quickly back to her car.

Once inside, she watched the woman move away, and then burst into tears.

"Fuck," she muttered, punching the seat with her good hand. "Fucking judgemental people."

These gratifying words dispensed with, she wiped her eyes, jammed the key in the ignition, and began her drive to work.

She was late.

And there had been a staff meeting. In her distraught rush from the building on Friday, she hadn't checked her letterbox.

She kept her epithets to herself, grabbed the agenda for the missed meeting from her mailbox and hurried to class.

The final bell rang as she got to the door. Letting the students in, she chucked her jacket and bag on the desk and began scribbling the agenda on the board.

"Rushed morning, Bella?" A female voice asked.

Turning around, Bella saw the vice principal, Lisa Murdoch, standing in the doorway. The woman was dressed in her customary three-inch heels, navy skirt suit, and pound of fake pearls. It was early, so the woman's makeup hadn't begun to crack. Yet.

"Uh, hi," Bella all but stammered, startled by the woman's sudden appearance. "Yeah. A bit."

"Mm," Lisa said. She dusted something invisible off of her immaculate jacket before fixing Bella with a cool stare. "I know you're new. Perhaps you aren't aware that staff meetings are mandatory?"

"My apologies. I do know they're mandatory, I just wasn't aware of the one today. I'm normally in earlier, but this morning was a bit busy at home."

"Kids?"

"Yes," Bella sighed, hoping she'd understand.

"Ah." Lisa pressed her lips together in a semblance of a smile but it was more predatory than warm. "I raised two on my own. I know how tough it is, but it's no excuse not to do your job."

Bella's stomach lurched, first in consternation at the reprimand, then in apprehension.

"Can we speak privately, for a moment?" Lisa asked.

Eyeing her students, who were pulling out books and starting to read the assigned pages listed on the board, Bella nodded, following the vice principal reluctantly into the hall. The door to the outside had been propped open for some reason, and Bella shivered, curling her arms around herself.

"You're new to the profession here, yes?"

"Not really, no," Bella said, a little defensively.

"Then you understand you're a role model in the community."

A fresh wave of nausea rippled through her, adding to her growing unease.

"I do," she said carefully.

"Good. Perhaps, then, you can explain to me why you were engaged in . . ." Lisa pursed her lips as she seemed to search for words before continuing, ". . . a very public display of affection during your class on Friday afternoon?"

The colour flamed up Bella's cheeks.

Shit.

Scrambling for an explanation, Bella almost didn't register Grant's voice behind her. "Morning."

"In the middle of something here, Mr. Wilson," Lisa snapped.

"I can tell," Grant said, coming over. From the set of his jaw, Bella knew his folded arms had nothing to do with the morning chill.

Please don't make this worse, she thought.

"Are you addressing concerns about Ms. Hamilton's performance or conduct?" he asked.

"This is a private conversation," Lisa said, her jaw tight.

"It's in the middle of the hallway, so it's hardly private. Have you informed her of her right to have a staff rep present?" he asked evenly.

"We're just having a chat, aren't we, Bella?"

Bella looked at Lisa, who was watching her expectantly, then at Grant, saying nothing. Was the man throwing her a lifeline?

"If she's criticizing your performance or work in any way, then you have the right to have a staff rep with you," Grant said. If there was judgement in his tone, Bella realized with relief that it wasn't directed at her.

"Then I'd like one," Bella said.

"Good, you got one." He pointed his thumbs to his chest. "Go on, Lisa, you were saying?" He raised his brows in mock innocence as he looked at her.

"You were engaged in an inappropriate display of affection at your place of work. In front of minors."

Grant snorted. "Is that what you call it, Lisa?"

"I'm sure you'll call it something else." Her mouth formed into a thin sneer.

"Yeah, I would. Someone walked into the building and assaulted a staff member. Of course, even if they hadn't, kissing someone is hardly immoral behaviour." He turned to Bella. "Has she gone through your health and safety orientation yet?"

"My what?" Bella asked, gobsmacked by his defense.

"Health and safety. Orientation. Lisa's department."

Bella couldn't remember anything about an orientation. "No, I don't think so."

"We have a two month grace period on those, and you know it." Lisa said petulantly.

"I do," Grant smiled. "Which is why you can't fault Bella for not reporting this intruder, because you haven't reviewed the safety procedures with her."

Feeling like she was dodging a bullet, Bella leaned away from the two of them, watching the very polite, but unmistakable acrimony unfold. Neither of them raised their voices, but the air was thick with their animosity.

Lisa ended it by turning back to Bella, and uttering another, "Staff meetings are mandatory. Every second Monday of the month."

Bella accepted this silently, watching her march away, the clack of her heels marking an impressive pace for the restrictive circumference of her skirt.

"Steer clear of her and always get a staff rep if she insists on talking to you," Grant said.

"Thank you," Bella said. "I appreciate the help. A lot."

"It's what I do," he said, shrugging. "And it's why we have a union: making sure prima donnas like that don't haul people over the coals wily nily." He paused, putting his hand in his hair. "I was really rude on Friday. I'm sorry. I didn't even think to check that you were okay."

"I am, and I was." Oh God, how did she explain this? "He was an ex—"

A loud crash made Grant gasp, blurt out, "Shoot—sorry, gotta run," and then turn and bolt back into his classroom. His voice boomed out rapid instructions to the students there.

Their conversation over for now, Bella moved back to her own class where, bless her students, they were still reading quietly.

Then she turned to face the board, where someone had stuck a printout of a picture. Of her and Edward. Kissing. Drawn around it was an ornate pink chalk heart.

That's a really nice picture, she thought. And it's the only one I have of the two of us.

She stared at it for a bit, and then, tired enough of being the butt end of Monday's jokes, walked up to the board and added a large, block letter, "MWAH!" above the heart.

A few snickers erupted from the front row, and then some full belly laughs from the back. Bella let her own chuckle join her students' and then told them to pull out their notebooks.

\- 0 -

Grant disappeared somewhere at lunch, and left right at the bell after last period.

She was disappointed, for sure. She'd really hoped she could at least explain, and that they could be friendly colleagues, if not true friends.

"Tomorrow," she mumbled, sifting through her paperwork.

Rounding the corner to the parking lot, she was fishing in her purse, searching for her keys, when she looked up to find Edward leaning against her car. When their eyes met, she was rewarded with his genuine grin, and as she got closer, a very welcome embrace. This morphed into an even better kiss, a pleasant lightheadedness washing over her as her blood forgot how to circulate for a few moments.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi yourself," she sighed back, not letting go of him.

It was rest, and joy, and thrill to be in his arms.

"Long day?"

"You could say that." She pulled away reluctantly.

"Maybe I can drive? You can tell me about it?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes, playfully landing a soft punch on his arm. "Love my Honda that much, eh?"

He obeyed the speed limit as he drove them to the daycare. She wasn't sure if it was because they were in the city, or because it would make her nauseous if he did otherwise. She told him about her day.

Edward's head turned abruptly toward her when she mentioned the photo, which she'd tucked in her purse. She felt herself flinch a little.. She should have remembered that photos were a problem.

"Don't worry about it," he said, squeezing her fingers. "Some pictures are inevitable these days."

After picking up the children from daycare, where Josh greeted Edward with a rare but fierce hug around the neck, they arrived back at home. The kids wandered off to play as Bella followed Edward into the kitchen but he immediately waved her off. "Go sit. Better yet, put your feet up."

Bella laughed. "What, you're making dinner?"

He glanced around, as if checking for little ears before pointing a wooden spoon at her. "Supernatural ability and the food network can't go wrong."

Bella thought otherwise, but pressed her lips together, and sat down at the table. She put her feet up on one of the chairs and decided that sitting felt very nice indeed.

Ingredients she didn't recognize were appearing on the island. "Did you go shopping?" she asked incredulously.

He didn't say anything, but his self-satisfied smile was impossible to miss as he started to chop up some vegetables.

She watched him as she mulled over her day and listened to Josh and Meredith, who were looking for Bubbles. She was pretty sure she'd let the big black cat outside when they left for daycare that morning, but she wasn't quite sure. Cursing her pregnancy-addled memory, she got up, rifling through the large pantry cabinet behind her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't consider that you might need a snack before dinner. Can I get you something?" Edward asked.

"No, I'm looking for the cat treats. I can't remember if Bubbles went outside. I was going to see if I could call her in."

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. "She won't come, Bella."

At his pronouncement, she turned to look at him.

"Why not?"

"Animals run from us, with good reason." He paused to let her consider this and frowned a little. "She must have been stressed of late with our being so close. Surely you'd seen something of that?"

Crud. She'd thought the cat had been disturbed by having other people in the house. She hadn't considered the effect of vampires on the family pet. "Right," she sighed, sitting back down. "I'll . . . " The words trailed off.

"What?" Edward asked, his eyes still focused on her, but continuing to chop without looking at what he was doing. Mesmerized, she watched him work for a moment before realizing he was waiting for a response.

.She met his gaze directly. "Well, I was wondering when I could get the cat to come back inside."

There. She'd found the nerve to bring it up. She had been thinking about this related topic since they'd spoken the day before. What would it look like, their being together? His presence had been almost constant since Friday, and if he really was going to stay—she sucked in a breath, just thinking of that—they should talk about logistics.

"Right," Edward said. "I can find her and bring her back, if you want, but I have to warn you, she'll be upset."

A small smile crept up her face. He was such a pragmatist. "I wasn't really talking about the cat."

She watched the realization blossom on his face. "Ah." He put the knife down, and wiped off his hands before he came to sit beside her. He took her hand in his. "What were you thinking?"

"I'm wondering what this will look like, how it will work, because I honestly don't know. I mean, I'm assuming you're going to be around, or at least I'm hoping you will, but I'm not sure—" her glance stole towards the living room, where she saw both Mer and Josh looking under the couch, still calling for the cat.

The phone rang, making Bella start a little.

"I got it!" Mer yelled.

"Wait," Bella called, moving to stand, but Mer had already picked up the handset.

"Hamilton residence," she chirped politely.

"Charlie," Edward mouthed to Bella.

"Hi Grandpa!" Mer squeaked from the living room. Then, "Mommy, it's Grandpa!"

"Press the speaker button, please, Mer." Bella called out and Charlie's voice filled the room.

"Hey kiddo, how're you doin'?" Charlie asked.

"Good! Josh and I are looking for Bubbles."

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm sure you'll find her. What else is new?"

Meredith needed little encouragement to talk. She seemed to naturally compensate for her brother's taciturn nature. "Alice and I are making a dress for me!"

"Alice, huh. One of your preschool friends?"

"No, Edward's sister."

Bella closed her eyes, and cringed. This was not how she wanted Charlie to hear about this. Edward gave her hand a little squeeze of what she took as encouragement.

Charlie was silent for a moment. "Making a dress. That sounds like a big project for a four-year-old."

"Yeah, but she's teaching me. And I'm almost five. It's gonna be ready for my birthday party."

"That's right, that's coming up soon."

"Two weeks!" she squealed.

"Your mom planned that yet?"

"No, but we're going to send invitations this week. You're invited, Grandpa."

"Oh good," he said, with just a little less than the expected enthusiasm. A small-enough deficit to remain unnoticed by a near five-year old, anyway.

"Maybe I can talk to your mom?"

"Okay!" Meredith said, running into the kitchen.

As Mer handed the phone to Bella, she asked, "Edward, can I have a cookie?"

Bella turned off the speaker and walked out of the kitchen, throwing Edward an apologetic look. She knew she'd have no privacy from Edward, but she wanted, as much as possible, to be alone for what was coming. "Hi Dad," she said, closing the guest room door behind her.

"Hi yourself," he said. "Did I hear that correctly? Alice and Edward?"

"Yes."

She heard him huff out a breath, and gritted her teeth, waiting for whatever was coming.

"You okay, honey?"

The relief was followed by a surge of guilt. "Yeah," she husked out, blinking back tears. "I am. I'm actually . . . better." She'd expected anger and judgement, and a string of warnings. Not his concern. She chastised herself for doubting him. He'd been there through her worst times.

"Good." It was a sigh. "You seeing your psychiatrist?"

Another piece of guilt twisted her stomach. Technically, she was, but she'd rescheduled her last appointment. "Yes."

He either bought it, or was being selective with his battles. "Edward's there right now?"

"Yes."

"I'm guessing not in a medical capacity."

It was like being shrunk back to her teenage self. She cleared her throat. "No. We're seeing one another."

She didn't catch what he muttered, but she doubted it was flattering of Edward.

Figuring she might as well tell him everything, she rushed out the next words. "There's something else I need to tell you, Dad."

"Oh?" His voice cracked over the syllable.

"I'm three months pregnant."

Silence.

Finally, he spoke, a choked and querying, "Congratulations?"

She chuckled. "Matt would be happy. He'd always wanted more—"

Then she realized what Charlie must have been thinking.

He'd been counting.

"Dad, get your head on straight."

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I got it. Sorry, I'm just—you and Edward. It's thrown me."

"You and me both."

"How . . . uh, long?"

"Friday."

His exhale made the phone vibrate with static. "Bella, I love you, so please hear me out. You've been through a lot, and a lot of it pretty recently. You're pregnant, and things must feel—"

"There's no ambiguity about how I feel about Edward, Dad. There never was. I know you have . . . strong feelings about him because he left—"

Charlie's snort interrupted her. "Strong feelings," he mumbled.

"I still love him, Dad."

His reaction to that wasn't audible but Bella pictured him rolling his eyes during the silence that followed. She waited for him to break it.

"He, uh, know about the baby? Of course, he does." Charlie asked and answered his own question as he mumbled something about Edward being her doctor and wasn't that convenient.

She ignored the background commentary. "He does."

"And he's okay with it? With all of that? Another man's kids and all . . ."

"Are you coming to Mer's birthday party?" It was the first thing she could think of to cut off Charlie's line of questioning. Things were too new between her and Edward and she wasn't sure she had answers for her father yet.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Her Dad could be very perceptive when he chose to be.

The conversation slipped into more normal realms then, encompassing subjects such as preferred colours, ponies, and aromatic felt-tip markers.

When Bella emerged from the guest room after taking a few minutes to breathe, she noticed the appetizing aroma emanating from the kitchen and found Edward on the floor with Josh. They were running cars down a short two-by-four angled against the couch. "See, the car goes," Edward said quietly.

His little face squished together in concentration, Josh produced two awkwardly consecutive words. "Car . . . goes."

Slapping her hand to her mouth, Bella held in her tears. Just.

"That's right," Edward said, smiling, getting up. "I'll come back in a bit, okay?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Josh returned to running his car down the piece of wood.

"He talked," she whispered to Edward. "He actually said two words together." Now the tears were streaming freely.

Edward smiled, cupping her face with his hands and brushing away her tears with gentle strokes of his thumbs. Then he pulled her into a hug.

"That went okay?" he asked.

"Well, he wasn't here to try and shoot you," she mumbled into his shirt.

Laughing, Edward kissed the top of her head. "We all have our different measures of success."

Tilting her head back, and looking at Edward, Bella couldn't find a measure with which to quantify the rightness she felt with him. It wasn't simple, but it was good, and for now, it was enough.


	23. Cat Wrangler

A/N for 2019-06-26: Welcome to all you new followers - lovely to have you here.

Beta'd by Eeyorefan12, with many, many thanks from me.

With my four children, I was very fortunate to have midwives, and it was a delight to pay homage to those incredibly compassionate, unflappable, and witty women with the character of Anita. As for the cat: Bubbles was the name initially suggested and rejected by my children for one of our current cats. In real life, 'Bubbles' is much beloved and enormous, but has never had the pleasure of being in Edward Cullen's company.

And finally: only three more days until the end of the school year!

~ Erin

* * *

Bella had mentioned to Edward that she needed a few minutes for herself after the children went to bed; she usually used the time to read or to simply relax. He'd been happy to oblige her and was acting as her backrest as she sat on the sofa, indulging in a new novel.

After a few minutes, Bella shifted her weight, not so much trying to be comfortable as to lessen her awareness of the grapefruit-sized lump pressing into her abdomen. She sat up, putting her book down and rubbing at her neck.

"May I?" Edward asked, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Please." Matt had often given her neck massages, especially when she was pregnant. It had been one of their ways to unwind together after the children were asleep.

She felt herself tense briefly in anticipation, worried that letting Edward do this would disturb that well of grief she usually kept buried, but his touch was a new thing entirely. Where Matt's hands had felt somewhat utilitarian, Edward's movements were a slow symphony played out over the tight strings of her back. She wasn't sure if it was his knowledge of human anatomy in general or just his awareness of hers but her many muscular dischords resolved, and Bella leaned back into the pressure. "That feels amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly, ending his work with a light kiss to the base of her neck.

"Your turn," she said, twisting to face him.

His smile widened in surprise. "Okay." He made her giggle when he winked and added, "Fill your boots."

She began in the middle of his back, pressing her palms into it with alternating pressure. "Does it feel like anything to you?" she asked. It was like massaging smooth marble.

"Very much," he answered. She heard the strain in his voice and wondered if it was too much for him.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

"It feels . . . fantastic." Edward sighed.

She kept doing what she had been doing, the familiar choreography embedded in her muscles' memory.

When his hand reached back to stop hers, his touch was devoid of words. He turned to face her in a lithe movement.

She felt no hesitation as she leaned in to kiss him. The delicate connection of their lips reformed itself again and again and again, each permutation accompanied by another touch—fingers, hands, arms, knees.

He traced invisible lines from her neck to her scapula, lazily following the swirl of muscle to her ribs. His fingers drifted lower to her abdomen and the growing curve of her stomach.

Her hands found a nest in the silk of his hair, first clutching it in tight fists and then smoothing it back against his head with her palms.

She could hear the small mewls and moans of contentment that she was making and was secretly elated when she drew a purring growl from Edward.

"I need to stop," he managed, gently pulling back.

She almost apologized, but stopped herself. No way, she thought. That was amazing. Not saying sorry for that. At all.

"And I promised you I'd go get your cat," Edward added, standing.

"If you're sure," Bella said dubiously. She had her share of scars from Bubbles-related encounters. She doubted even Edward could emerge completely unscathed.

"I think I can handle your cat. But you might want to have a spot for her to hide in when we get back." There was a ghost of smirk on his face as he said it.

She was just finishing clearing out the space under the guest room bed, when the back door closed.

Edward appeared, shirt peppered with several holes, a quivering Bubbles clutched against his chest.

When Bella held her arms out to take her, Edward shook his head. "She's quite agitated." He set her down carefully on the floor, and she scuttled under the bed, giving Edward a good loud hiss on her way. "And the same to you," he said, cocking an eyebrow in Bubbles' direction.

Hand to her mouth, Bella snorted.

"Care to share with the class, Ms. Hamilton?" he quipped.

"Edward Cullen, cat wrangler. It's a good look for you."

Peering down at his shirt, Edward heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I should expect a visit from Alice before too long." he said drily. He reached out and brushed his hand against her cheek. "It's getting late."

"So it is," she said, smiling. "Thank you for getting my cat."

"You're welcome." He tugged at her hand, moving them away from the bed. "Come on, she'll be happier if I'm further away."

Stupid cat, Bella thought to herself.

Edward walked to the kitchen, where he sat down at the table, underneath the calendar hung on the wall. He glanced at it, then returned a concerned gaze to Bella as she settled across from him. "I know you said you didn't want me to be your doctor, and I'm trying not to be, but I do have a question to ask you that might fall under that umbrella."

"Okay," Bella said cautiously.

"Did something bad happen, with your last pregnancy?"

"No, why?"

"It's just you haven't found a caregiver, and you're three months pregnant. I'd wondered . . ."

Their hands were together on the table, and she watched their fingers play together a bit before answering. "Nothing bad happened. I'm just being a chicken."

Edward looked at her quizzically.

"I'll get someone," she said.

"Why is it bothering you then?"

She had avoided giving words to her anxious thoughts. They had a way of making things real that were better left amorphous. She shook her head, the tears near. It was so tempting to stay in the present happiness. To not to have to constantly slip into moments of sorrow.

The trickle of tears started. "I was so happy when I found out I was pregnant with Josh and Mer. And I'm so happy to be with you. I don't want to feel the sadness I know I'm going to feel, knowing . . . he's not here for this child."

Edward stood slowly, still keeping hold of her hand, and Bella accepted his gentle pull into an embrace. She let herself cry enough tears to make her nose run and contemplated wiping it on her own sleeve while she fingered the many little holes in Edward's shirt.

"I'm here for this," Edward said, his fingers briefly brushing her abdomen, "If you'll have me."

"I can barely believe I have you," she croaked. "It still feels too good to be true."

"You have it entirely wrong," he murmured. "I'm the lucky one."

She spoke with much more bravery than she felt. "Well, Edward Cullen, cat wrangler, if you're up to this—" She patted her stomach, "let's go find me a midwife."

\- 0 -

When she'd agreed to see a midwife, she hadn't expected it to be the next day. Her call into her former practice was returned immediately by her previous midwife, Anita; they had an opening for 4:00 PM that day, and they were thrilled to have her back again.

They had no idea Matt was dead.

At lunch, Bella closed the door to her classroom and phoned the Midwifery office, updating her file with this crucial piece of information, then confirming she'd be there for her appointment.

It took her a few minutes before she mustered the courage to text Edward.

Do you want me to be there? He replied.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Yes, she decided, sending this before she could change her mind.

Bella was already waiting in the small reception area, a wide open space with benches and throw pillows, when Edward walked in. He didn't make a beeline for her like he normally did, and Bella stood, not quite sure of this difference. There were only a few other people around, but all eyes found their way to his impossible beauty.

He moved slowly, as if waiting on something, and Bella realized he was waiting on her, seeing how she wanted them to be together here. She held out her hand, taking his and squeezing it, then not letting go.

The room's other occupants returned their attention to their own tasks. The receptionist was busy with her paperwork, and a young, clearly sleep-deprived couple with a very young baby sat together, suitcase-like diaper bag, carseat, baby carrier, and coffees at hand. Another, more relaxed-looking, and extremely pregnant woman sat beside her partner. Both were watching the other couple, dreamy looks in their eyes.

Bella smiled at the couple with the newborn, empathetically remembering those early days with Mer and Josh.

"Want me to fill that in and save your hand?" Edward asked, looking at the clipboard on her lap. Her splinted hand was much better, but writing with it remained tricky. Part of her bristled at the idea she still needed help, but the larger, more reasonable part was grateful for it.

The baby across from them gave a plaintiff mewl, and the woman jerked up, nearly dropping her coffee.

Bella handed over the clipboard.

Edward whispered, "What's wrong? Your heart's going a mile a minute."

There was no time to consider, let alone give an answer, as Bella's nervous thoughts were interrupted by the midwife's enthusiastic, "Bella!"

"Hello love," Anita said, arms open wide as Bella approached. "Good to have you back." The hug was a real one, and hearing her midwife's voice recalled many memories from much happier times.

"Thanks Anita," she said, a little of the anxiety fading.

"And your friend?" Anita prompted, looking at Edward.

"This is Edward, my, er—"

"Cat wrangler," he supplied, shaking Anita's hand.

Bella's fingers tightened over his.

"Nice to meet you, Edward," Anita said, her gaze flickering to their linked hands.

Most of the appointment was taken up reviewing Bella's medical history, for which Edward remained dutifully silent. He'd promised not to overstep his bounds.

This changed when Anita took her vitals. Edward actively frowned at the blood pressure reading. "It's been one hundred over sixty five on several occasions," he interrupted.

Bella arched an eyebrow at him, and he snapped his mouth closed.

Anita didn't hide her smirk well enough. "You have medical training?" she asked him.

"Boy does he ever," Bella muttered. If only she could say.

"I'm a GP," he admitted.

"Well congratulations, you are the quietest doctor I've ever had come in with a client."

Edward nodded, a small smile on his lips.

Bella wondered what Anita was thinking that made this expression appear.

Then Anita launched into all the questions that Edward had already asked Bella, and gave the exact same advice on eating regularly.

Edward was studying the pictures on the wall when Bella glanced at him, but she was pretty sure his face would have said, 'I told you so," if she'd been able to get a good look at it.

His quiet and sudden, "Excuse me, I believe I have a page," surprised, and then alarmed her.

Catching her eye as he stood, he shook his head minutely. No, everything was fine. Something not related to her mortal endangerment was happening. She and Anita watched him leave the room. Bella was surprised when he didn't close the door behind him.

Then, through the the open door, she heard his, "Your baby's beauti—," then a rustling, and a much louder, "Call 911."

Anita was up and out the door in a flash, phone in hand.

Bella followed.

The baby she'd noticed before was in Edward's arms, flopped out like a discoloured doll, skin and clothes matched in their blue and dusky hue. Edward's tiny compressions jerked its little hands up rhythmically, a morbid puppet dance.

Bella's breath caught in horror.

"Sit," Anita said, hand on Bella's shoulder.

She did.

Edward was still intent, but nothing good was coming of his actions.

The young mother sobbed and the man Bella presumed was the father looked on, his otherwise-dark skin pasty with fear.

Edward kept up his steady movements, putting his mouth to the smaller one after a series of compressions, then beginning the sequence again.

Bella watched it all, knowing she was watching a baby die, one minute, pointless thrust at a time. Her mind told her just as surely that the parents' grief would grow from this moment. She knew exactly what that they were in for: the accumulating weight of sorrow, layered on by each successive realization.

Despair struck her with as much force as if it was her own child in Edward's arms.

We're all dead. Victoria's going to get to us. Or someone will slip up. Get a papercut. Someone. Somewhere. Some unguarded moment. Bella felt her thoughts spiraling out of her control, twisting her reason into a coil of pressing nerves.

Happiness doesn't last. Even her bones knew this.

The moment of clarity expanded. Bella could sacrifice herself to Victoria, or be transformed and enact vengeance herself. Both outcomes would obliterate her family.

This gloom was sucking at her feet, just beginning to pull her into the abyss of hopelessness, when Edward paused. His fingers hovered over the blue fleece of the sleeper, now in contrast to the baby's slowly pinking flesh.

"Oh my God," the mother said, bursting into tears. "He's okay! He's okay!"

"He's breathing," Edward said, not handing the baby back yet. "But you need to take him to the hospital." Anita was still on the phone, talking to the 911 operator, narrating what she was seeing.

The ambulance pulled up, two paramedics bustling through the door.

Edward handed the baby to them, murmuring facts and medical terms Bella couldn't understand, the room's sounds watery and unclear. Then he was beside her, certain hands keeping her from falling over in her seat, taking her pulse unnecessarily when she was sure he could hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"The baby will be alright," he was whispering.

She couldn't even speak so she simply nodded.

"Come lie down," Anita murmured to Bella.

There were twin hands on her shoulders: one warm, one cold, and she felt pulled between the forces each represented: one to life, and the other, to death.


	24. Ridiculous Notions

A/N for 2019-07-03: Eeyorefan12, you make my writing so much better. Thank you for all your fine work.

News: The Babies at the Border fundraiser is back for round two. I really wish there wasn't a reason for its existence, but alas, the reason remains. If you're not sure what the fundraiser is about, I encourage you to check out their handle on Twitter, batb_2018, or the Facebook group.

So, I'll be writing for the cause, and donating as well. However, *what* I write is up to you all. I've put a poll on my FaceBook author page: Facebook DOT com SLASH flamingmaplewrites. The choices are: an out- or future-take from this story, a more immediate continuation of _Primum Non Nocere_, or something else - feel free to message me with a suggestion.

Happy reading,

Erin

* * *

"I'm fine, really," Bella said, putting her hand on Edward's forearm. She laid her head back against the headrest, watching the rain begin to splatter over the windshield. Edward had insisted on driving her home in her car after her 'episode' at the Midwifery. Not that she had been difficult to convince.

"You don't look fine," Edward countered. She was sure he didn't think she sounded fine either.

She wasn't, not entirely, but sometimes shaky and anxious was a marked improvement over blatantly panicked.

With the initial onset of her alarming emotional descent, she had grabbed Edward's hand and begun talking to herself in a low voice. Anita, who'd worked with her before, understood these affirmations for what they were. Bella hadn't been so certain of Edward's reaction, and had only peeked up at him after a few minutes. He had nodded encouragingly, and a wave of relief had flooded her as she was reminded yet again what a blessing his ability to read the minds around him could be.

"I just don't do well with reminders of human frailty and mortality—especially when it comes to children."

Edward gently lifted her hand from his arm, squeezing it lightly and kissing it before letting their clasped hands rest between them. "No, I can imagine not."

"I'm okay," she said, willing it to be true.

"Okay," he echoed.

She let herself focus on breathing in and out.

"What was wrong with the baby?" She finally asked him.

"Nothing, as far as I could tell," Edward said.

Turning her head towards him, she frowned. "Nothing?"

"Bradycardia is not uncommon in newborns." He said it clinically. Like it was nothing. Like the baby hadn't stopped breathing. Like he hadn't possibly just saved its life.

She stared at his profile for a moment, then made herself take another deep breath. "Bad things happen to people," she mumbled to herself. "That doesn't mean they'll happen to me."

"I will do my best to keep them at bay," Edward said, releasing her hand to gently brush her cheek with his, the backs of his fingers cool and soothing.

\- 0 -

Meredith's impending birthday celebrations were another, much happier reminder of Bella's and her family's human status.

Alice's wish to be involved in Mer's birthday party planning was less so.

"No, thank you," Bella said politely to Alice. "I think Mer and I can plan her birthday party." The 'alone' was inferred.

"If you want some help, just say so. I've been known to follow instructions occasionally."

Jasper disguised his laughter as a cough.

"You pretend a lot," Mer said to him, and then looked at Alice. Her little eyebrows were pinched together as if she was trying to solve a mystery. "Grown-ups are silly," she said to Alice, whom she clearly didn't include in this category.

"Very," Alice agreed. She pointed to the fabric they'd laid out flat on the carpet. "Just put the pin there. Good!"

"Maybe you could do that, Alice?" Bella said, keeping her breathing even. She noticed Jasper wandering away and hoped she hadn't offended him with her concern but he only went as far as the dining room where he sat down before one of the laptops that resided on the table. Edward had wryly referred to the area as Command Central a few days before.

"Why don't I?" Alice was saying to Meredith. "You hold the pattern piece on, and then I'll pin it and cut it out. You can tell me if I'm not going straight on the lines."

Mer nodded solemnly. She adored Alice and talked of her frequently at home. Bella was grateful for Alice's ability to make her daughter feel special.

Edward appeared, gently pulling at Bella's hand. "Come see." he said, sounding uncharacteristically excited. "Outside."

In one of the lower parts of the garden, Carlisle and Josh were sitting on the lawn, a large bottle and a bubble wand between them.

"More bubbles, Josh?" Carlisle was asking.

"More!" Josh squeaked, standing up.

"Okay. What's your name?" Carlisle asked him.

Josh looked momentarily flustered, and his little lips pulled down in a frown.

"Say, 'Josh,'" Carlisle whispered to him.

"Josh!"

"Good!" Carlisle blew out a string of perfect bubbles.

Hand to her mouth, Bella didn't even try to stop the tears but turned herself into Edward's chest. She didn't want Josh to see her crying. "How'd he do that?" she whispered.

"External incentive," Edward said into her hair. "Antecedent, behavior, consequence."

"Okay, in English, for the rest of us," she chuckled, wiping at her eyes.

He planted a soft kiss on her cheek. "It's the premise of the therapy I told you about. You set things up so you have something motivating for the child to work towards—like bubbles. The antecedent is the thing that your child is meant to respond to, like a question, the behaviour is the action you want, and the reward is the consequence. In short, positive reinforcement."

Face rearranged, Bella turned herself around, leaning back against Edward's chest.

"Josh, more bubbles?" Carlisle asked.

"More!"

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to Edward.

"Man!"

Bella chewed on the inside of her lip, fighting to hold back her laugh.

"That's Edward. Can you say, 'Edward'?"

"Man!" Josh repeated.

"Good work," Carlisle said, blowing more bubbles.

"But—" Bella said.

"They're just establishing rapport right now. Some leeway is important," Edward explained, pretending to clear his throat. "Unlike my name."

"Sure, 'Man'," Bella chuckled, emphasizing the word with air quotes.

After watching for a little, Bella could see that Carlisle had things with Josh under control and that she and Edward were more of a distraction than a help. It was her turn to tug Edward away by the hand.

Meandering around to the front of the house, they settled onto a bench there. "You sure Esme is good, getting dinner ready?" She looked towards the kitchen.

"Quite," he smiled. "You're not getting the idea you need to go help, are you?"

"None at all, seeing as I've barely touched anything in my own kitchen of late."

Edward gave a thoughtful, "Hmm," but didn't rise to the bait.

This did bring her closer to a topic of conversation she'd been meaning to tackle for a while.

"But I do want to talk about matters domestic." Glancing sideways, she saw she had his full attention. "You've been at my place a lot, and it's been really nice."

"Is that a polite Canadian way of saying it's too much?" he asked lightly, still rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

"No," she said, smiling. "It's just you're there, but all your things are here. And I'm not always sure where I'm going to find you."

"You'll find me beside you, until you shoo me away. There would be no other reason for me to be elsewhere."

"I have no interest in shooing you away," Bella said, smiling. "But I'm sure you're valued at your . . . other job."

"I'm on leave from work, so no need to worry about them missing me."

"You are?" It surprised her, though she supposed it shouldn't.

"Some things are more important than work." His gaze was suddenly very intense. "My place is with you and the children right now."

Bella briefly glanced away, feeling suddenly lightheaded. For once, she knew it had nothing to do with her pregnancy. Also, they'd gotten off-track so she needed to lighten the moment.

"I should add, the cat may say otherwise about your welcome." Letting a small smile blossom on her face, Bella remembered the latest interaction between Edward, Josh, and the family cat.

Josh adored Bubbles, seeking her out at every opportunity. He'd been delighted when she'd taken to sleeping in his new bed and kept patting the mattress at night, calling out, "Bu-bbles!" in a sing song voice. These emanations became shrieks of excitement when Bubbles did grace his room with her presence.

So when Josh had tried to bring his newest and most favourite person together with the cat, he'd been perplexed by their seeming incompatibility. No matter how hard he tried, Josh could not find a way to entice Bubbles to approach when Edward was near. The closest he'd managed to bring them was when he had dragged Edward to his room, while Bubbles cowered under the bed, spitting and hissing at any perceived movement.

"Bubbles," Josh had said, trying to soothe her while peering under the bed from a safe distance. Then he'd added, "Man," like Edward was a treat to be offered. No luck.

"I was just wondering," Bella began, "where you consider your home to be—now." She knew she was speaking very quietly. It felt momentous to be asking about this.

His answer was instantaneous. "Wherever you are."

"Okay," she said quietly, wondering if he was just teasing her at this point or if he really was this clueless about what she was asking. "Does that mean you're moving in?"

She watched his eyebrows settle into that wrinkled wedge that told her he was thinking.

Shit.

He didn't want to move in with her? But he practically lived there already!

She sucked in a quick breath, uttering a silent string of chastisements as she tried to understand what was going on. She felt stupid to have assumed that this was the logical next step, but hadn't he _just _said that his place was with her? Or was he hesitating because she was the one who had asked? Bella looked down at her lap and was oddly surprised to see both her fingers and Edward's still entwined there. The man was giving her whiplash . . .

"Forgive me," he said, squeezing her hand. "My silence has upset you. I think this is where I'm feeling my age."

"What do you mean by that?" she mumbled, not looking at him.

He sighed. "You're going to think this is ridiculous. Probably because it is."

Her heart rate slowed. Maybe she hadn't been wrong?

"I'm worried about what other people will think of me being seen to live with you."

Her eyes shot up to his face again but it still took three blinks, and repeating the words to herself, before she could speak. "You're worried about my reputation?"

He looked uncomfortable as he spoke. "To be fair, it's a secondary concern, but it's one of them."

"Edward, I am not worried about what neighbours I don't really know think. What's your first concern?"

His voice was very quiet. "You're not worried about what Charlie will think?"

She wanted to say she wasn't, but that wouldn't be true. "All things considered, Charlie's opinion is not my biggest consideration."

He nodded.

"What are _you_ worried about?" She asked, resisting the urge to bite her lip.

"I don't want to dishonour you."

More blinks. "What?"

He ran his free hand through his hair, ruffling the back. "You're well versed in the nineteenth century classics, of course." It was not a question.

"Of course." She was trying to figure out the connection between this and the previous line of conversation.

"Just think of anyone moving in with a member of the opposite sex, that wasn't their blood relative, during that time."

"Sure. Total ostracization."

"Yes. I was born at the end of that time period."

Right. "Oh."

"Indeed," Edward said.

Bella pondered this for a moment. "So let me get this straight. You've practically been living at my house, staying in my bed at night, being more intimate with me than we ever were before, and that's okay, but moving your stuff in, isn't?" She blushed a little at these last words. There hadn't been more than a kiss since that first night.

"In a nutshell, yes."

"That's ridiculous, Edward."

"I think those are the exact words I used," he said, smiling ruefully.

"Well, I'm glad we're in agreement on that," Bella sighed.

They sat, staring at the trees, thinking, hands still linked.

"So, I'm taking that as a no to you formally moving in," she said quietly.

Edward's arm slipped around her, pulling her close. "What do _you_ want?" he asked. "Because I had ten years to think about how insisting on what _I_ wanted didn't work out very well."

She looked sideways at him. "I don't want you to abandon your values because you think I want something."

"I don't think I'm in danger of that. I'm just trying to think about the bigger picture. I've been rightly accused of being a tiny bit narrow-minded."

Bella laughed a little. Yes. In their past, that would have been an even bigger understatement than it was now. She let her face relax, thinking again. "I want to be with you," Bella said softly. "I want you to be with us."

He breathed a kiss into her hair. "Okay."

"Maybe you can just leave some clothes at my place, and not move in? Would that be enough of a compromise for your moral sensibilities?"

"My moral sensibilities," he chuckled, turning her face to brush her lips with a kiss. "Ancient, ridiculous notions that I can't seem to shake."

She laughed, accepting more of these kisses. "I love you, ridiculous notions and all."

* * *

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	25. Birthday

A/N for 2019-07-10: Welcome to all you new followers and readers. This chapter was beta'd by the amazing Eeyorefan12.

Favourite comment from the last chapter: "Such a pleasant chapter . . I'm scared to death because it must mean something awful is about to hit!" I think that reader just *might* have my number.

Many thanks for those of you who share your thoughts via PM and review - they are a delight to read, and really do keep me motivated to write.

~ Erin

* * *

"Morning," Edward said, as Bella opened her eyes and found herself curled up against him.

"Morning," Bella yawned, not quite ready to be awake yet, but feeling her body's insistent needs. Stretching, she reluctantly rolled away from him and eased her legs over the side of the bed, planning to stand up and use the bathroom.

Edward appeared, a hand out to steady her.

"I can walk to the bathroom unaided," she said with a small smile.

"Yes, you can. Let's keep it that way."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Ah, the confidence. It's overwhelming."

"It's your third pregnancy. They don't make you more coordinated."

She had to agree. She'd already entered the don't-give-me-anything-fragile-to-hold stage. This had given her opportunity to be grateful for Edward's superhuman coordination.

He was waiting for her when she opened the bathroom door, but his easy expression was gone.

"What?"

His eyebrows nudged together, like there was something he didn't want to tell her. "Meredith's . . . upset."

He moved aside so Bella could slip past him to stand outside her daughter's door. Sure enough, she could hear quiet sobs. She opened the door and hurried to Mer's bed.

"Hey," she said, sitting down, "what's up, sweetheart?"

Meredith didn't say anything for a little while, clinging to Bella tightly. Finally, she croaked out, "I miss Daddy. And he's missing my birthday."

"Yes, he is," Bella hushed back. The tears were rising for her too. "I miss him too."

She'd watched well-meaning people try to tell her children things would be better—that they should think of all the good things they'd had with Matt. She'd had the same people say such things to her.

And she knew their well-meant words to be as comforting as the air they travelled through.

"It hurts. I know." She held Mer, rubbing her back, focusing on listening.

"He won't see my special dress, or have our princess cupcakes. Daddy loved princess cupcakes."

In the midst of her tears, Bella had to stifle her laugh. Matt had looked at her in horror when Mer developed her princess craze.

_"This is short-lived, right?" he'd asked quietly, as they stood in the 'pink' section of the toy aisle._

_Bella had held back her snort then too, nudging him in the ribs, whispering, "Get your princess on, babe!"_

"Yes," she managed seriously. "Daddy loved his princess cupcakes."

"Can we take him one?" Mer asked.

They hadn't gone to the cemetery in several weeks. Both children had asked to go a few times after the funeral but she realized it hadn't come up in a while

"Of course we can."

This plan made, Meredith recovered herself, announcing she was going to go make breakfast.

"You don't want me to make you a special breakfast?" Bella asked.

"No, I'm five now. I want to make my own waffles."

"Uh, with the waffles in the toaster, like I showed you, right?"

"Of course. And Edward showed me. Not you."

Well, Bella thought. Aren't you five. "Okay. Be careful."

Mer was already dancing away, moving suspiciously like Alice did. "I will!"

Edward followed, giving Bella a peck on the cheek as he went by. "I'll keep an eye on that."

When Bella was showered and dressed, she went to walk downstairs, but found herself sitting halfway down, a wave of dizziness and nausea making her rest her head between her knees.

"I'm fine," she murmured, knowing Edward would have heard this.

"That's debatable," he said, coming up to join her.

"Just give me a minute," she said.

He shook his head. "You've had plenty. And there's a 5-year-old in the kitchen using small electrical appliances." He scooped her up and she sighed, wanting to give him a look, but not ready to open her eyes.

When he put her down just outside the kitchen, he placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Am I forgiven?"

"You're forgiven," she said.

"Oh good." He smiled, and then held her hand and walked her to the table.

"Are you going to have waffles, too?" Meredith asked. She was opening the freezer door, rifling through the drawer.

"Er—" Bella started.

"No, I'll make your mommy breakfast," Edward said. "She needs protein."

Meredith pouted at Edward.

"Of course, I do need some help," Edward amended.

"Okay!" Meredith bounced on her toes.

Edward looked to Bella, clearly seeking input. "Eggs would be great," she said, smiling a little. Meredith hadn't warmed up to Edward like she had to Alice and it was good to see them doing something together.

Bella was briefly 'allowed' out of her chair to tend the scrambled eggs in the pan when Josh woke and called for them from upstairs. Edward was back with him so quickly, though, she laughingly told him to check her son for whiplash.

After breakfast was tidied away, Bella pulled out the cupcakes she'd made the day before, Edward hovering as she moved around the kitchen.

"What?" she finally asked.

His jaw tightened a little before he spoke. "You're not steady on your feet. You keep losing your balance. I'm worried you're going to hurt yourself."

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes yet again, Bella put the container of cupcakes down and then glanced out of the kitchen to check on Meredith and Josh. They were trying to catch the cat, but Bubbles was as elusive as ever. Quickly determining that her children were unlikely to be successful, she walked up to Edward, placing her hands on his chest. Her little flare of frustration faded once she was touching him. "I know you love me, and that you worry a lot about me, but I am not spun sugar. I have managed to have two children already. They're just fine, and so am I." She directed her gaze out of the kitchen again, then back to him, lifting her eyebrows meaningfully.

"Yes," he said. "You have and you are. But this is also your third pregnancy, which is coming fairly close on the heels of your second. You're also not sleeping as much as you need to, or resting with your feet up—"

She did roll her eyes now.

"I'm serious."

He was. She could see it in the set of his jaw.

"You're more likely to have vascular problems with a third pregnancy, and you've been feeling light-headed—"

"Okay," she said, closing her eyes, still with her hands on his chest. "What is it you're asking me to do, then?"

"Go lay down. Put your feet up."

"Edward, I just woke up."

"And you wanted to take the children to the park this morning, before the party, right?"

"Sure, but—"

He waved his hand towards the living room. "I think I can handle decorating some cupcakes."

She was going to say no, but then she realized it wasn't her call to make. "Mer," she called. "You okay if Edward decorates your cupcakes?"

Meredith skipped into the kitchen. "Sure. As long as they're pink princess cupcakes."

"No problem," Edward said, not looking at Meredith, but pointing his eyes at Bella and then towards the living room.

"Good luck," Bella whispered, and then walked away, pulling out her phone to call the local bakery. Just in case.

Her worries were needless. Fortified with _The Joy of Cooking_, Meredith's crayon drawing, and more complete mental illustration from the birthday girl, Edward produced what Mer declared were the best princess cupcakes. Ever. Even better than Eloise Martin's mom could make.

Bella had to admit they were pretty spectacular.

"I am not ever going to be able to live up to this," she said, a little worriedly, looking at the precise detail with which they'd been decorated.

"You don't need to," Edward whispered in her ear. "We'll just add cupcake decorator to my job description and let you take all the credit."

\- 0 -

Bella and Edward had agreed that she would introduce Edward to everyone at the party as her friend. Meredith was of the age where such distinctions in relationships were noticed and Bella didn't want this to become the focus of the party.

Meredith's friend Eloise was the first to arrive, then Kim and Georgia. The respective parents had all ogled Edward when he and Bella had answered the door.

"Pick up at four," Bella said, keeping her smile small and composed as children were dropped off.

"You sure you don't want some extra help?" Steve asked, when he brought his daughter Mei. He'd always been chatty with Bella when they had crossed paths at the preschool. And not just chatty, but more interested and inquisitive than she expected. She was sure she knew more about his status as a single parent than she should. "I don't mind staying."

It surprised her to feel Edward's arm come suddenly around her shoulders. "I think we have it all in hand, don't you?" he asked Bella.

Though mildly bewildered at Edward's sudden show of affection, she smiled back at him, and then at Steve. "Yeah, we're good, but thanks."

When she closed the door, she murmured, "What was that about?"

"Just my insanely-possessive nature," he whispered back.

"That was you being insanely possessive?" She asked with a smirk.

He removed his arm from her shoulders and flashed her a crooked grin. "I'm trying not to be," he admitted, scanning the room.

"Thank goodness," Bella laughed, before reaching to steady a table-lamp from one of the girls running by. Edward beat her to it, sliding it closer to the wall. There was a disturbing thunk from the kitchen.

"I'll take that end. Will you handle the door?" he asked.

"Sure."

There were party games planned, but Bella wanted to wait for all the guests to be there before starting them.

The next arrival was a familiar one . . . with a surprise.

"Dad, you made it! And Sue—I didn't know you were coming."

"Didn't want to miss this," she said, pulling Bella into a warm hug. "I managed to get some time off work. You doing okay?"

"I am. Still a little nauseous, but that's nothing new."

"Hmm," Sue said. "It's harder when you have little ones around."

"I'm doing fine," Bella said again.

The living room had emptied, and Bella could hear the babble of many excited voices in the kitchen. She felt a guilty squirm, having left Edward with all the girls.

"Come on back. I think the horde has gathered near the food."

"Sure," Charlie said, kicking off his shoes. He had a large long box under his arm which he set down on the growing pile on the coffee table

Meredith met them halfway, jumping up into Charlie's arms. "Grandpa! Grandma Sue!"

After exchanging greetings, Meredith pulled Charlie and Sue towards the kitchen with an enthusiastic, "Come meet my friends!"

As they walked through the narrow doorway, first Charlie, then Sue stopped, Sue much more abruptly, as they caught sight of Edward.

Charlie said nothing, quickly smoothing away the initial grimace Bella had caught growing on his face, but Sue stood staring openly, mouth slack with shock.

"Hi, Edward," Charlie managed. Bella was impressed by how neutral it sounded.

Edward raised one hand in greeting as he continued pouring juice from the pitcher he was holding with the other.

"Sue, honey, this is Edward. Bella's . . . friend."

Sue had recovered herself a little, but not enough to keep Charlie from looking worriedly at her. She nodded, and the greeting would have been polite enough if Sue hadn't taken the slightest step backwards.

Charlie glanced at Bella, eyebrows raised in a way that communicated he wasn't alone in his opinion of Edward.

But Bella wasn't paying attention to her father. She was staring at Sue now, a sudden and vitriolic epiphany testing all the limits of her self-control.

"Excuse me," she said, patting her lower abdomen, moving towards the bathroom. "Be right back."

On the pretext of sparing the downstairs bathroom for guests, she moved up the stairs as quickly as she could, ignoring the mounting dizziness that made her stumble towards the top. She pushed through the sensation, bouncing between the bannister and the wall on the way to her bedroom.

Then she closed the door, sitting down on the bed, where she tried to breathe off the anger that had left her fists shaking.

It didn't work, so she began pounding her good hand into the pillows, first with ineffective thumps, and then smashing at the feathers inside. Finally, she picked it up and threw it against the wall, snatching it back to muffle her scream. She wanted to roar, but goosedown only absorbed so much sound and, even now, she wouldn't risk ruining Meredith's party.

Sue had known.

She'd known that Bella wasn't having a psychotic break. She'd let Charlie treat her to the point that he needed to mortgage his house to pay off Bella's medical debts. God, she'd let Bella think she was completely insane!

Did the woman even love Charlie? If the pack was willing to discard Bella to protect their secret, she didn't doubt they'd stoop to having Sue use Charlie to keep tabs on Bella. It was enough to make her want to vomit.

"Bella?" Edward's voice was muffled by the door between them.

"Come in," she gritted out.

After closing the door quietly, he appeared beside her, hands reaching for hers.

"She knew," Bella whispered. "The entire time. I can't believe I didn't even consider this before. She knew I wasn't insane. And she let my dad go into debt paying for treatment I didn't need."

Edward sat down beside her. . "So did I, Bella." He squeezed her hand.

"It's different—"

"Is it? If they hadn't discredited you, we would not be sitting here." He was quiet for a moment and Bella saw him swallow hard—a rare fidget for him but one she recognized as something he only did under stress. . "Bella, I'm ultimately responsible for what you went through. If you hadn't known me, you wouldn't have known about the wolves—"

"You can't know that." She was still uncontrollably angry. It was a personal affront, the place Sue held in Charlie's heart, and had held in Bella's.

"The wolves wouldn't have appeared if it weren't for us," Edward said. "Sue's children would not be wolves if my family hadn't moved back to Forks. If she wasn't so terrified of me, and for you, she'd be trying to find a way to end me right now."

"What do you mean, about the wolves appearing?"

Edward moved slightly on the bed, his arm out a bit, inviting Bella to sit closer to him. She accepted, nudging up against his side. "We'd had suspicions before, but Sue's thoughts confirmed it today. Having vampires nearby triggers the transformation."

It was another punch in the gut. "So Jacob—" She couldn't finish the statement. Her stomach twisted in on itself.

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't kill him, Edward." She knew her words were true, but her heart and mind couldn't agree on what they meant. Or how she felt about them.

"No." He loosened his arm from around her. "I destroyed Victoria's mate to save my own, and then foolishly left, not thinking to ensure your safety. Sue was only dealing with the fallout of my actions."

Bella could hear and understand what Edward was saying but could make no conclusions about it; A confused swirl of emotions had taken up residence in her chest. She was still angry with Sue for her part in the charade, though she knew it was Sam who deserved more of her ire. Beyond that was the fresh remembrance of Edward's actions having instigated the events that had spiraled beyond her control, and brought so much heartache—and now her angry inner turmoil surged in his direction.

"We need to go downstairs. I can deal with this later," Bella mumbled.

Edward followed silently, keeping more of a distance than he normally would.

In the kitchen, Sue had marshalled the girls, playing a giggle-inspiring version of telephone. Josh was holding Charlie's hand and pointing to the back door.

"Bubbles!" Josh was saying.

When Edward appeared, Josh ran to him. "Bubbles!" he announced, then looked at Charlie and the back door.

"I had to let her out," Charlie said. "Sorry, Josh," he added. "Things were getting a bit crazy with the girls."

"That's fine. Thanks Dad," Bella said, trying to smile. She watched the game that was underway for a bit and when it finally devolved into the inevitable nonsense sentences and shrieks of laughter, she called , "Alright, who's ready to play pass-the-parcel?"

The party games went as smoothly as they could, for a bunch of four-and five-year olds. Josh hovered on the periphery, bouncing between Edward and Charlie, chirping his singularly-worded observations and requests.

Bella studiously avoided interacting with Sue, grateful the older woman was at ease with her adopted grandchildren and the other small guests present. Bella's storm of feelings hadn't subsided, but they had distilled themselves, small and potent, anxiously awaiting decanting.

When it came time to bring out the cupcakes, Bella found herself pausing, trying to decide in which direction to turn, to Charlie or Edward, for help.

Charlie spared her the choice. "Can I do the honours?" he asked softly. "I didn't get to do many of these when you were little."

"Sure," she said softly. She handed Charlie the candles and matches, watching him set and light them.

Sue was supervising the last of the games in the living room, and Bella and Charlie walked in together, holding the tray of cupcakes, singing 'Happy Birthday'.

Josh had gravitated to Edward and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edward's hands on Josh's arms as he crouched behind him, murmuring quietly.

The singing done, the birthday girl and guests were only too happy to bounce into the kitchen for cake. Josh trailed after them, squirming into his booster seat, waiting expectantly. "Cake!" he announced, looking hopefully at Edward.

"Yes, cake," Edward agreed. "A cupcake."

Josh smiled in anticipation.

Putting cupcakes on plates, Bella caught Charlie's glower out of the corner of her eye.

She could very well imagine what he was upset about. She hadn't told him Edward would be there. She also considered the many secrets that Charlie wasn't privy to. The many secrets that had been kept from her.

Josh's wail interrupted these musings. He'd bitten into his cupcake, and now looked at it accusingly.

"Hey," Charlie said, moving towards him. "What's up?"

"No, yellow!" Josh shrieked. "Yellow! Yellow!"

Edward approached too, so that Josh was flanked on either side.

"I got it," Charlie growled at Edward.

Josh's shrieks had become high-pitched, and some of the girls had put their hands over their ears. Meredith kept saying, "It's okay, Josh! It's okay!" getting louder and louder with each repetition.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's go outside," Charlie said, moving to pick him up.

Josh yanked himself away. "No!" he steam-whistled. "Man!" Then he lunged towards Edward.

Charlie's glare at Edward was positively murderous.

Edward picked Josh up, avoiding Charlie's gaze, and walked him into the den, where Bella followed. Josh's voice lessened a little in volume and his cries became those of sadness, rather than anger. "Yellow," he intoned, looking towards the kitchen. "Yellow."

"You want something yellow?" Bella asked, struggling to remember if there was something yellow he'd lately become attached to.

"Did you have yellow cupcakes at some point?" Edward whispered. "With little sunflowers on them?"

"Oh," Bella gasped, hand to her mouth. "Yes." She had to take a few breaths before she could continue. Matt and the kids had made them for her birthday last year. It had been a late celebration, moved to coincide with Canadian Thanksgiving when they'd gone to visit Charlie. "I didn't know he remembered." They'd baked them in Charlie's kitchen, unearthing ancient cupcake tins that she was sure hadn't seen use since Renee had lived there. "Yes," she said again, and then to Joshua. "Is that what you want, yellow cupcakes, like we had for mommy's birthday?"

Josh answered by burying his head in Edward's chest.

"No," Edward said, keeping his voice low. He mouthed the words over Josh's head, "He thought the cupcakes would bring back his Dad."

Blinking back tears, Bella leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Josh. "I miss Daddy too, sweetheart."

Edward raised one hand to reach for Bella as well, clearly unaware it was the last thing she wanted from him at this moment. "No," she murmured, keeping Josh in the circle of her arms, and pulling him from Edward's.

When the door cracked open after a light rap, Bella caught Charlie's worried look. "Everything okay?"

"Yep," Bella said.

Watching her father nudge his body a bit further into the room, Bella studied his face out of the corner of her eye, most of her attention still trained on Josh, who was trembling with his shifting emotional states.

Charlie cleared his throat.

For the most part, Charlie hadn't given cause for her to doubt his intuition or emotional intelligence. Yet, there were times when that belief was soundly shaken. Now was one of them. The day had layered strain upon strain and she felt each of them keenly. "Give us a few minutes, okay?"

"Sure," Charlie said, watching the three of them for a few moments, then retreating.

Bella could feel Edward's eyes on her but all her focus was on the sad little boy she was holding."Shall we make some yellow cupcakes tomorrow, my little man?" she asked Josh.

"Man," Joshua croaked, reaching for Edward.

"I'm here," he answered, accepting Josh as he crawled back into his lap. Bella's arms felt suddenly very empty as she finally met Edward's gaze over her son's head. His expression was somber but she could see the questions there.

Josh sighed, minutely contented.

"Is it okay if mommy goes back to Mer's party?" Edward asked him.

Josh nodded, and Bella had to force herself to get up and head toward the kitchen, still confused and angry, and now sharing her son's grief. Unseen by Bella, Sue side-stepped into the room, clicking the door shut behind her, staring at Edward.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	26. Blood

A/N for 2019-07-17: I hoist my cup of coffee and salute you all from the lakeside chair in which I sit. A big shout-out to Eeyorefan12 for her amazing editing and moral support as I wrestle with some of the story's latter chapters.

I still have a poll running on my FaceBook page (facebook DOT com forward slash flamingmaplewrites) for the Babies at the Border fundraiser. The options are an out- or future-take on this story, or a more immediate continuation of _Primum Non Nocere_.

~ Erin

* * *

"I'd say you have nerve," Sue said, "but you don't actually have any of those, do you?"

Edward could hear the woman's heart pounding loudly in her chest. Her perspiration smelled vaguely of dog.

"Josh, you come see Grandma Sue?" she tried, her tone abruptly sweetened.

"No. Man." Josh mumbled into Edward's chest, gripping a bit tighter.

"Are you sure?" Edward asked him. "You don't get to see Grandma Sue very often."

"No," Josh said more firmly. "Man."

"Okay." Edward pretended to shift a little, like he was getting uncomfortable, before realizing that he could drop the human charade in front of Sue. She knew what he was.

Sue's face twisted, teeth grinding together. "What will it be this time?" she asked, sotto voce, clearly aware he could hear her. "How will you destroy her now? With her children?" She lifted her chin to Joshua.

"I will not hurt her," Edward said, as quietly as he could and still be audible to her.

"Oh yes, of course not. Just abandon her. Let my people die in defending her again? Maybe _my_ son this time? Or my daughter? God, your very presence is a danger to us."

Her thoughts ran in tandem with her voice, but with additional words not suited to her grandson's ears. Not that it mattered. Her tone was enough to make her anger clear. Edward was almost grateful for the difficulty Josh could have in accurately discerning emotions. For now, he was studying his Grandma Sue's expression with interest but not alarm.

"Does she know what you are? Or have you at least left her the safety of the psychosis?"

"Safety?" Edward growled, a flare of anger making it difficult to stay seated . . . or civil. Only the boy in his arms kept his voice muted. "Pushing treatments and medications on her that were completely unnecessary? Endangering her health? Indebting her father?"

She snorted. "And you think you have ground to stand on there?"

"I am culpable for all the danger that has touched her life. My world is full of danger, but so is yours. I tried to leave—keep it away from her, and it only made things worse. If I could have solved things by staying away, I would have."

"Feel free to keep trying that method. She was doing just fine before you showed up."

Hearing Charlie's approach, Edward did not respond, utilizing the self-control he had mastered through the years to keep silent.

"Hey, there you are," Charlie said to Sue as he opened the door. If he thought it was odd to find her and Edward in the same room, his thoughts revealed nothing. "A couple of parents are here. Meredith wants you to come meet them and pass out loot bags."

"Of course," Sue said, shooting Edward a nasty parting look. Her thoughts were clear: _I will see Bella and my grandchildren free and clear of you._

"Can we go say goodbye to Mer's friends?" Edward asked Josh once Charlie and Sue had walked away

His little head nodded and Edward carried him towards the front door. As they walked, Josh seemed to try to squirm deeper into his stony chest. He liked Edward's cold body; that much his thoughts made clear. Edward mused again at how the workings of Josh's mind were louder when they physically touched.

"I won't get too close," he whispered to Josh, hearing his anxiety about being talked to by the strange adults present once they'd reached the living room. "They're here to take Mer's friends home."

Like a compass needle, Edward was attuned to the central magnetic pull of his world: to Bella. He watched her from across the room as she said good-bye to the parents departing with their kids, giving every child a smile or an affectionate touch on the shoulder as they left. Her heart thumped steadily and the little one inside her fluttered in its newness. The constant permutations of these rhythms, along with those of Josh and Meredith, had quickly become the symphony of his existence. He stood and relished its innumerable movements and variations, sparing little attention to anything else for the moment

With the last of the guests out the door, Bella closed it with a little sigh. Edward wanted to know, desperately, what she was thinking and feeling, but she hadn't so much at looked at him since he had entered the room with Josh.

"Go put your feet up, honey," Charlie said. "We can get started with clean-up."

"Thanks, but I'll be faster doing it myself. It won't take long." The strained lines in her face told Edward that she was still upset from before and wanting some space to be alone. The playacting was wearing on her.

"Call if you need help, okay?" Charlie said, frowning a little.

"C'mon, Grandpa, come help me put my new fishing rod together," Mer said, pulling at his shirt.

"No problem, Squirt." He let Meredith drag him towards the dining room, where the gifts lay scattered over the floor.

Josh squirmed down from his perch against Edward's chest, looking towards the box of cars in the corner, then back at Edward. "Do you want to play cars?" Edward asked him.

Josh smiled, a slow production that spread wide, revealing ingratiating dimples and twinkling blue eyes. Edward couldn't help grinning in return and they sat down, Josh passing him a car. They traded these vehicles back and forth on the floor, sometimes sequentially, sometimes in tandem, the small wheels whirring past each other.

Edward kept his attention focused on Bella's activity in the kitchen at the same time, checking for any sign of strain. She was well, busy tidying and clearing things away.

In the corner of the living room, Sue sat pretending to be a casual observer of the living and dining rooms' occupants. Her heart still beat too quickly and he kept seeing his own face in her thoughts, but at least she had stopped envisioning him being eviscerated by wolves. While he had wondered earlier if anyone had informed Sue of his gift, it was now clear to him that she had no idea. He tried not to be too pleased about this fact.

Edward made sure he kept talking to Joshua, who had a knack for knowing when Edward's attention was divided.

"Cars," Josh said, little brow furrowing. Then he looked towards Sue, picking up an orange dump truck and running towards her. "Cars," he repeated, looking back at Edward. He put the car in her hand.

"Oh no, you go play," she said.

Her fear was potent.

"Cars," Joshua insisted, voice rising. He pointed again.

"Won't kill you to play cars, Sue," Charlie called. "Can't be all tea parties and princesses." Then he chuckled, almost to himself.

Sue shot Edward a dark look. He kept his face expressionless but steadily returned her gaze until she looked away again.

"Cars," Joshua repeated, pulling at her hand. "Pull!" he added, yanking harder. "Pull!"

Pressed on both sides, Sue rose slowly, following Josh back towards Edward. When she was settled on the floor, close enough that they were all within an arm's reach, Josh put the truck in her hand and then pulled it towards Edward, lifting his hand so that Edward's cold one, and Sue's overly-warm one, met.

Her hissed gasp and Bella's strangled, "Shit!" from the next room were synonymous.

The smell of Bella's blood reached Edward before the sound of her voice did and he struggled to keep himself from running towards it, fear clenching at his gut. He told Josh he'd be right back and left him with Sue while he forced himself to walk to the kitchen at a mostly-human pace.

Charlie was almost equally attuned to his daughter and was the first to reach her. She had one one bloody hand clutched in a tea towel, her head down, as she retched into a mixing bowl. Meredith watched from the doorway to the dining room, looking worried and confused, her new fishing rod clutched tightly in one hand.

"C'mon," Charlie was saying, an arm wrapped around Bella, "Let's go to the bathroom."

"Why don't I do this?" Edward said, struggling with the primal urge to rip Charlie away from her to get to his mate. The blood was nothing, but her distress was making his skin crawl with anxiety.

"No!" Bella all but shrieked, holding her uninjured up. The blood-smeared palm shook. "Dad's got this." Then she vomited again.

Jaw set, Charlie turned back to Edward, thoughts full of flickering memories: Bella in the hospital, shrieking about vampires and werewolves, body frantic as they took a blood sample. "This is hard for her," he said to Edward. "She can't handle seeing or smelling her own blood." He dropped his voice to mutter, for Edward's ears only, "Part of the psychosis, they said." His arm stayed protectively over her, as he herded her towards the bathroom. "Mer, honey," he called back. "Go play with your brother until I get back, okay?"

Edward felt like an ice carving of himself, standing in the middle of the room, unable to move.

"Mama?" Josh called from the kitchen doorway. His gaze flicked to the bathroom, and then to Edward.

Sue answered him first. "Mama hurt her hand. Just give her a few minutes, okay, sweetie?"

"Mama?" Josh repeated, looking at Edward.

He forced himself out of his frozen state. "Grandma Sue's right. Mama will be okay in a little while." Edward knew, from the workings of his voice box, that he had said the right words, used the correct intonation and the appropriate volume, but he was so devastated by what Charlie had shown him a few moments before that he still doubted himself.

Edward's words obviously held more credence than Sue's did because Josh turned back to the living room, calling, "Cars!" on the way. A quick glance showed Edward that Mer was already there so he didn't follow, and he began looking around the kitchen for whatever Bella had hurt herself on. He spotted a small paring knife on the floor and scooped it up.

"Maybe you should leave," Sue growled out. "For obvious reasons."

"Enough." Edward said firmly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sue's eyes widen at him but he ignored her reaction, listening only to what was happening down the hall.

When Bella returned a few minutes later, she was ashen. Her hand was bleeding a little, but much less than before.

"Can I look at that?" he asked softly.

"Okay," she said uncertainly, sitting down at the table. She held out her shaky hand so that he could examine it.

Sue's mind was full of dark thoughts and worries, the most obvious being Edward draining Bella at the kitchen table. She was trying to figure out if she could get away with the children before he murdered their mother.

Edward ignored her ridiculous imaginings. She may have been technically correct earlier when she accused him of not having human nerves but if he did, he was sure she would have been on every last one of them.

"Were you afraid of how I would react?" he whispered to Bella.

"No," she said, looking away, her shallow breathing and elevated heart rate telling him otherwise.

He'd pulled the first aid kit—or, rather, the small paramedic's kit he'd assembled for any emergencies—from the kitchen cabinet. There was a kit for each floor. He was taking no chances with her or her children.

The cut was long, but shallow. "It won't need stitches," he said, painting it with antiseptic and then bringing it together with adhesive surgical strips. He added a piece of gauze and taped it in place, hiding the wound. Then he took her other hand. "Please talk to me."

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

Their few words were obscured by the sounds Charlie and Sue made as they worked to clean up the kitchen. It was deliberate on Charlie's part. He was trying to give Bella a quiet moment with Edward, studiously not listening to what they were saying, making as much noise as he could with his own conversation with Sue.

Sue, on the other hand, was trying to listen to everything they were saying, and was frustrated that Charlie was making so much noise.

"At the time, I thought it was just a product of the psychosis, but obviously, I had some good reasons to be afraid for bleeding." She closed her eyes, paling again.

"Your fears were well-founded, Bella. Why do you think you need to apologize . . . especially to me?" he asked. Although he knew from experience how pointless it was to try, he felt himself focusing all of his ability, trying to hear her thoughts.

She gritted her teeth. "Habit. I'm not. I'm just—"

"Anything else you need done?" Charlie asked pointedly, looking at Bella with concern. Apparently, he had decided that Edward's questions were upsetting her.

"Thank you, no, Dad. I think we're good." She smiled wanly at him.

Wiping down the counter, Charlie added, "You gonna go lay down for a bit? You don't look so good."

"I think I will." Bella stood up.

Edward reached out instinctively to steady her. Her flinch surprised him, but he chalked it up to the shock, and followed her out of the kitchen.

At the foot of the stairs, she paused and turned around. "Um . . . Why don't you head home, seeing as Sue and Charlie will be spending the night?" she said, not looking at him but staring at some fixed point on his chest.

Everything stopped. He knew vaguely where he was. He knew the woman he loved more than his own life was standing before him but, beyond that, Edward's mind was a blank. Even the regular hum of thoughts about him had fallen silent. Although he didn't need to breathe, he felt as if he was underwater, struggling for air. He tried to focus, to see or hear anything that made sense. Slowly, the words she had just spoken began to coalesce into a coherent sentence but its meaning was still unfathomable. Here was home. She was home. If he wasn't here, with her . . . He couldn't complete the thought.

He knew Bella was probably waiting for him to speak or to respond in some way. When his silence lasted too long, she finally met his gaze.

"I need a bit of time," she rushed out. "Some space. I know you'll be nearby. I just need—I need to think clearly, and figure out . . . everything. I can't do that while you're here."

It took nearly everything he had to muster the next words. "Of course, whatever you need." Inside, his already-dead heart was crumbling to dust. Was this the mirror fate was holding up to him? His reward for leaving and wounding her all those years ago?

His more practical self spread its attention to the human charade that needed keeping, at least for Charlie, and the children. He would need to retrieve his jacket and keys. Say goodbye.

"Man!" Josh called, making Edward turn.

Bella's steps took her upstairs. She was crying.

And she'd asked him to leave.

"I have to head home," Edward said to Joshua.

"Cars," Joshua said, looking confused. He understood that Edward was leaving, but he couldn't comprehend why. Edward listened to Josh's internal wondering, hearing his thought that perhaps he'd not shared his favourite car enough. He held the blue one up now, trying to find a way to make Edward stay.

"Thank you," Edward said quietly. "That's very nice of you to share. You keep it. We can play with it when I come back, okay?"

Josh shook his head, tears threatening.

"Do you want to play cars before I go?"

Josh nodded, sniffling.

"Okay."

So Edward sat for a few minutes, listening to Bella's tears upstairs and Josh's near ones in front of him. He heard every speck of dust grinding beneath the wheels of the cars they slid between them. When Josh had calmed enough to accept Edward's departure, Edward stood, gently rubbing a thumb over the boy's cheek. "I will see you soon, alright?"

His little nod was solemn.

"I'm off," he announced to a surprised Charlie, and a morbidly-pleased Sue.

"See you, Edward," Charlie said politely. Sue only nodded, the minimum gesture she could offer without being rude. She didn't want to raise suspicions in Charlie.

Edward paused by Meredith, who was busy with her gifts. "Happy Birthday, big girl. I'm leaving now, but I'll be back . . . later."

"Why?" she asked.

Lying seemed easier than the truth. "I need to go get a few things done."

"And then you'll come back?"

"I will come back."

"Okay." Then she threw her arms around him. "Thank you for my cupcakes."

"You're welcome." He stroked her hair briefly before turning to go.

His chest hurt. His heart hurt. It was illogical. He was a vampire. He couldn't hurt, not physically. Steps heavy, he walked out the front door, knowing that his heart was upstairs, aching, sore, and wanting.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	27. Not Coming Back

A/N for 2019-07-21: A friendly reminder that this story is categorized as 'angst' for several reasons. I'm not sure if 'enjoy' is the right sentiment in giving this chapter to you to read, but there you are anyway. A big thank you to Eeyorefan12 for her incredibly thoughtful and dedicated work on this tale.

For those of you interested in the Babies at the Border fundraiser, thank you for taking time to let me know which story you want to see continued. You chose this one, and I'll be putting together an out- or future-take for the compilation.

Logistics: Sunday will be the new posting day for this story.

~ Erin

* * *

Bella stayed upstairs until she was certain Edward had left. The tell-tale thump of the front door closing was her cue to get up and move back downstairs. She forced herself not to think about the expression of utter devastation and shock on his face when she'd asked him to go. If she did, she was certain she'd run after him and beg his forgiveness. But no, she needed this time. She needed to think, to sort out her feelings . . . even though her body already ached at his absence.

"I meant a real rest," Charlie said, frowning as she reappeared. Then he looked towards where Edward had left, and raised an eyebrow, asking much more quietly, "You two alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Bella said, making her mouth form a smile. "I just wanted a chance to have a real visit with you both."

Charlie stared at her, lips twisted to the side. Bella recognized it as his I-call-bullshit face. He nodded a little, looking at Mer, occupied with her new toys, and Josh, still at play with the cars on the floor, but now with Sue at his side. "Sure," he said in a tone that communicated blatant disbelief. "So, uh, We were wondering if we could take you to dinner tonight?"

"At a restaurant?"

"I hear that's where they make the food."

"Uh—"

"We can help with Josh," he said, correctly sensing her source of worry.

"It's just been a big day already, and I don't want to tempt fate." God, how she missed the ease of going to restaurants, but with Josh—

"Let's get some take-out then." Charlie glanced at his watch. "Chinese okay?"

"Chinese is great. I'll just go tidy up the guest room a bit." The kids had been playing in there the day before. Normally, Charlie wouldn't mind, but Bella hadn't anticipated Sue coming along too. She had enough emotion still roiling within her; She didn't need any real or imagined judgement for her crappy housekeeping to be added on to what the day had already provided.

"No, no. We're not staying. I wouldn't spring that on you," Charlie said, waving her towards a chair. "And considering you seem to have . . . _company_ around, I didn't want to impose." He glanced at Sue, and his eyebrows nudged together at the scowl on her face. Bella wondered how Sue would explain away her barely-concealed hostility towards Edward once she and Charlie were free to talk alone.

God, Edward.

She'd thought they were done with the secrets. Edward had been forthcoming with every question she'd asked, but how could she ask about things she didn't know about? And each new disclosure seemed to hit her harder than the one before. The Cullens' connection to the pack, Sue's charade of support at her father's side . . . what other upsetting discoveries awaited her? She'd worked so hard to deal with the anger and distrust, and she had come so far. Apparently, she had further to go.

"You're always welcome, Dad," Bella said, certain that the false smile she was still wearing wasn't fooling him.

Charlie was now seated with her while Meredith had finally wandered away to the kitchen. Josh and Sue were having their own version of a conversation, which was typically one-sided where her son was concerned. Lowering his voice, Charlie said, "I don't expect you to tell me everything, but I don't expect to be lied to." He tilted his head, lifting his eyebrows. "I deserve better. You deserve better."

Bella closed her eyes briefly, taking and releasing a deep breath. Now was not the time to take on Charlie and his anti-Edward campaign. She didn't have to search far to find something that was truthful, yet not the truth, to give him. "Mer and Josh have both been in tears today over Matt. Me too. I just wanted a bit of time and space from Edward. He was very . . . understanding. Nothing nefarious going on, Dad."

This seemed to mollify him a little. "I know you're seeing your psychiatrist, but have you thought about grief counseling, too?"

Would she be like this with her own children, when they were older? Still worried, still anxious? Still hovering over them like they were 12? Maybe. There was a swell of emotion—of love, and gratitude, for her father. "Jennifer's taking some of that on, Dad. There hasn't been anything else to really talk about in our sessions."

"Good." He let out a big sigh. "Good," he said again. "Okay. Why don't we take the kids to go pick up some take-out and give you some time to yourself?"

Just what she needed. "Thank you."

It took a few minutes, but Josh and Mer were happy to go with their grandparents. Bella wondered which of the Cullens would tail them. Then she dismissed the thought, and turned her attention to the work of her mind and heart. There was much to be attended to there.

Oh, Edward.

Her heart thudded painfully, and her eyes watered. She loved him. She couldn't deny it—wouldn't even try. But she was still overcome with anger over the new revelations of the day. When Edward left her long ago, he'd known she'd suffer for his loss, but she believed she had come to terms with that. His reasons had been noble, even if his method had been unnecessarily cruel. She felt less forgiving about the supposed psychosis he would have heard about. His reasons for not returning then were less easy to accept, but again, he had thought he was protecting her. She realized that she didn't question that fact anymore. She accepted that with the Volturi involved, his return would have only drawn more attention and put her in even more danger.

But losing Jacob had been another shattering punch she'd taken to her emotional gut and now Edward had suggested that if the Cullens hadn't been there, Jacob wouldn't have changed. He'd still be alive. He wouldn't have died protecting her from Victoria and seeing it happen might not have triggered her mental breakdown . . .

But Jake also wouldn't have been your friend, she told herself. Circumstances would likely never have pushed you together in the way they had. And Edward said they weren't sure before . . . that it was only confirmed by Sue's thoughts today. So, that wasn't the Cullens fault, was it?

The uncomfortable truth was that she wouldn't have Edward now, if she hadn't had him then. The guilty happiness—no, joy—they'd had in the last few weeks had been nearly transcendent. Difficult, yes, but in the ways that made their successes that much sweeter.

Good things come with a cost, she told herself. We've more than paid for our happiness together.

Yes, a bitter voice thought in her mind, _you've_ paid. And so have the people closest to you.

The house phone's ringing disturbed these ruminations. She didn't recognize the number, but picked it up. "Hello?"

A man's voice rumbled on the other end of the line. "Hi, uh, are you missing a cat named Bubbles? Wears a pink collar?"

"Oh, she's not missing, she's just out for a bit," Bella explained, hoping the cat hadn't been making trouble. She was an adequate birder and Bella always felt a twinge of guilt, letting her loose on the local chickadee population.

"I'm so sorry to tell you this, but your cat is, uh . . . dead."

"What?" She nearly bit her tongue. "Are you sure?"

"I found her by my porch, under some bushes. Looks like an animal got to her. I'm really sorry. I just thought you'd want to know. I've got pets myself."

"Of course," Bella said, rubbing her forehead. "Thank you for calling." Shit. Poor Bubbles. What was she going to tell the kids?

"Do you want to come get her? I wasn't sure if you wanted to bury the body, or I can call the city pound if you like—"

"No, thank you. I'll come get her." Her heart spasmed, thinking mostly of the children and how much this would devastate them. Josh especially. Tonight was going to be brutal, and the next few days too. And she had sent Edward away. She was abruptly grateful for Charlie's presence today. The feeling didn't extend to Sue.

Bella wrote down the address, and then texted Charlie, letting him know where she'd be going, but not why. The house was just a ten-minute walk away. She grabbed the cat carrier from the hall closet and hurried out the door.

"Bella?" Jasper's voice called.

"Jasper?" She hadn't heard him approach. Nothing new there.

"May I come with you?" he asked, ever the southern gentleman

She looked around for an obvious threat, realizing how dazed she must be. Of course, she thought, he'd have heard the phone call and then felt all her emotions. How long had he been nearby?

"Sure," she said, feeling far less so about his presence.

He held out his hand for the cat-carrier, which she handed over.

They walked down the block, rounding the corner and continuing on towards the address the caller had given Bella. A half-block shy of their destination, Jasper lightly touched Bella's forearm to signal her to stop.

She said nothing, watching his nostrils flare. Alice appeared from a side-street. She shook her head at Bella slightly, whispering, "It's okay, just being cautious."

"Josh and Mer? Charlie?" Bella asked, feeling her heart thud faster.

"They're fine. Esme and Rose are keeping tabs on them. Emmett's here, too."

Bella allowed herself a steadying breath. "Then let's go get my dead cat."

Jasper and Alice waited for her as she mounted the stairs to the house's main door, where an elderly man greeted Bella sympathetically. He'd covered Bubbles up with a towel. When Bella started to lift it to make sure that it was indeed her own cat, Jasper beat her to it. "It's her," he said softly, quickly scooping up the limp body and putting it in the carrier.

Bella thanked the man and the somber trio walked home. As soon as they were in the privacy of the backyard, Jasper set down the small kennel.

"Do you really need to check?" Alice asked him.

"Check what?" Bella asked.

Alice frowned. "Your cat wasn't killed by an animal, Bella. And there's barely any blood left in her."

It only took a moment for the significance to register. "Oh," Bella said, and then looked at Alice in confusion.

"Not us," Alice clarified.

"I didn't mean—" Bella mumbled.

"We know," Jasper said softly, looking at the cat in his hands.

"Do you recognize it?" he asked Alice.

His wife shook her head, a small vee appearing above her nose. They exchanged a look, and Bella felt, more than witnessed, the incredible worry that passed with it. This was not good, on a scale of epic proportions. There was more than one vampire who meant Bella harm. Possibly several. Oh god. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively.

"Is it Victoria?" she asked hesitantly. "Or someone else? Could the Volturi—"

"No, not Victoria and not the Volturi," Alice said. "I'm watching them. And if it is, it's no one we've met, and we've met quite a few of them." She visibly shuddered and Jasper took her hand.

Bella's many questions about their interaction with the Volturi swam to the surface, but she was still dealing with what had happened to her cat and with the sudden realization that having constant bodyguards was no guarantee of safety for her family. This was not the time.

She saw Jasper and Alice's pale heads suddenly lift in the same direction, cocked to listen. "Charlie'll be here soon," Jasper said.

Alice gently touched Bella's shoulder. "We'll be nearby if you need us. I'm so sorry about your cat. You and your children are safe, though."

"But, how do you know that?" Bella asked. "If someone got past you . . . "

"We caught the scent right away," Jasper interrupted. "But we focused on you and your guests, and called Emmett and Rose for back-up. We couldn't leave you unprotected since . . . well . . . " He was clearly searching for words.

Alice supplied them. "Edward is usually here, Bella. There were only two of us this time." Her voice sounded almost apologetic and, to Bella's relief, not judgemental.

"I understand. And thank you," Bella said. She wondered if they knew why Edward had left. Had they heard her ask him to go? Surely he must have talked to them. Briefly, she felt a bit guilty for making the job of protection detail that much harder. She should have considered that having Edward there with her made them all infinitely safer. Did knowing that make sending him away a mistake?

"Is he . . . around?" She couldn't keep from asking the question.

"He will be," Alice said. "He went hunting . . . with Carlisle." The way she faintly smiled when she said it made Bella think it hadn't been Edward's idea.

Bella nodded, holding out her arms for the carrier and cat.

Putting the carrier in the den, where the children wouldn't come across it unawares, Bella waited for Charlie, Sue, and the children in the kitchen.

"We brought dinner, momma!" Mer exclaimed. "With lemon chicken!"

"Ooh, yum. Thank you," she murmured, pulling Mer and Josh into a hug. "Did you get the fun cookies, too?"

Josh nodded.

"You gonna go play with your toys while we get everything ready?" Bella asked.

They didn't even answer, running off to play.

"What's up?" Charlie asked. "You look like your cat died."

"She did," Bella said flatly.

"Oh shit," Charlie mumbled, running his hand over his hair. "I'm sorry, honey. How'd it happen?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe a dog."

"You okay?"

The lie was almost too easy on her tongue. "I'm fine. But Josh—" she looked towards the living room. Further explanation was not required. Charlie knew. "She's in the carrier in the den. I was hoping we could wait until after dinner, so that he at least eats."

"That's probably for the best," Charlie agreed.

Sue had stood beside him, making all the right facial expressions and sounds, but as Charlie moved towards the living room, Sue laid a hand on Bella's arm. Bella immediately shook her off.

"No,"she said through her teeth, finally able to let the words free. "I get why you did what you did, but no—I can't. I'll keep the pretense up for my Dad's sake, but don't expect more."

"But the disgusting creature who did this to you gets a pass?" Sue's voice challenged her.

Bella stared at her, her body trembling with anger—as much over Sue's description of Edward as for the part the woman herself was still playing. "No one gets a pass, Sue. Not the _man_ who left me. Not my dead husband. Not Jacob or the pack. Not the woman who everyone thinks is psychotic. Not my kids, not even my damn cat!"

This shut Sue up, and she had the sense to take her tight-lipped expression and walk away.

Over dinner, Bella realized just how good at faking things Sue was. She talked like everything was fine. Charlie focused on his grandchildren, obviously enjoying their rare company, letting the talk meander to what the summer might hold in Forks. Last year Matt and Bella had agreed to come spend the summer at Charlie's house, while Sue and Charlie took up residence in her old one on the reservation. Bella didn't have the heart to say that the plans might have to change. The day had held enough difficulty. She wasn't sure which way was up at the moment so she left the conversation for later. They had another six weeks before school ended. Plenty of time to make or break plans.

When all the dishes were put away, and the leftovers carefully stowed, Bella sat Josh and Mer down, wishing she had Edward's abilities at her disposal. "I got a phone call today after you guys went to get dinner, about Bubbles."

Mer's little forehead wrinkled. Josh just stared, oblivious and blinking.

"Another animal hurt Bubbles, and it was really, really bad."

"Is she okay?" Mer asked, voice pitched high with concern.

"No, sweetie, she isn't. Bubbles was too hurt. She died."

Mer burst into tears, falling into Bella's arms. Josh looked on, concerned and confused, his gaze flicking between Mer and his mother. She wasn't sure if he didn't understand the words, or was in shock or denial. It had taken him a long time to grasp that Matt's death meant his dad wouldn't come back; the cupcake incident at Mer's party had suggested that it still wasn't entirely clear to him.

When Meredith's tears slowed, Bella spoke to them both again. "I brought her home. Her body's in the den. Do you want to go and say goodbye?"

Mer nodded solemnly. Josh ony asked, "Bubbles?"

"Yes," Bella said, "let's go see Bubbles."

He hurried beside her, body stiff with anxiety.

When Bella pulled the cat's body out of the carrier, Mer's sobs renewed themselves and she accepted Charlie's arms as comfort, while Bella kept a hand on Josh's back.

"Ouchy," he said softly, touching the wound on the cat.

Bella yanked his hand back, suddenly fearful for any venom that might yet lurk there. Josh flinched in response, looking at her uncertainly.

"Sorry," she whispered, "The ouchy is yucky. No touching, okay?"

Josh nodded, and then reached his hand out tentatively to Bubble's head, looking up at Bella before making contact. "Yes," Bella said, holding back her tears. "It's okay to pet her." She wiped at her nose with her sleeve.

"Bubbles," Josh said, like he was trying to call her to him. He repeated her name, the singsong sound summoning nothing but an increasingly tremulous warble in his voice. "Bubbles," he finally croaked, looking at his mother.

"She's not going to wake up, sweetie. Like daddy."

These were the final, hard words that cracked Josh's tenuous control, and his tears and sobs were muffled into his cat's neck, while Bella watched, feeling helpless and grief-stricken.

She held her son, who clung to his cat, and she blackly wondered what else would be taken, before the nightmare of this assault on their peace was over.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	28. Sandwiches

A/N for 2019-07-28: As always, many thanks are owed to Eeyorefan12, whose dedication to this story cannot be overstated.

For those of you recovering from the last chapter, may it be some comfort to you to know that the real-life Bubbles is contentedly basking all twenty-five pounds of her sleek black self in some Vancouver sunshine.

Your comments on this story continue to delight and intrigue both me and my beta, so thank you for sharing your reactions.

For those of you have donated to the Babies and the Border fundraiser, thank you - it is a worthy cause. I'm looking forward to putting together the outtake from this story for the compilation.

~ Erin

* * *

"And how are things with Edward?" Jennifer asked.

"We're taking a bit of a break right now."

"A break?"

Bella struggled for a moment with how to explain this. "A few things happened last weekend. Edward told me . . . " and here she chewed on her lip before producing the lie. "He told me that he knew about my psychosis a lot sooner than I thought. I think that Sue—my stepmother—told him."

Jennifer's eyebrows lifted in a rare show of emotion. "I see. That must have produced some strong feelings."

"You could say that."

Jennifer's next question was quiet. "Did your father know?"

It was one of those inquiries that left Bella feeling like a marshmallow—probed and pinched gently, assessed to see for how long one could be held to the fire.

Bella had thought about this question for some time. Watching Charlie struggle through the hard dirt in her backyard, digging a small grave for the cat, she'd decided he hadn't known anything beyond what the psychiatrists told him. He couldn't know anything about Sue's disingenuousness He loved Bella too much, and he'd done too much for her, to ever believe that he'd betray her heart that way.

"No," she told Jennifer. "I don't think he did. I think I remember him trying to find Edward the first time I was in the hospital but he told the doctors he couldn't. He wouldn't lie to me about that. If Sue talked to Edward, Charlie didn't know."

"You didn't ask him then?"

Bella shook her head, and took a sip of water.

"So when did you find out about this?"

"Edward told me during Mer's birthday party." It wasn't exactly the truth, but it was close enough. Bella hoped her face disguised her discomfort. It was difficult enough to tangle up what was, and wasn't true, let alone keep it straight in her mind. She'd have to write it down when she got home, otherwise she'd forget what she'd told her.

Always perceptive, Jennifer looked at Bella and narrowed her eyes. "Did something else happen?"

"Yes." Bella's stomach clenched at the memory. "I cut my hand when I was cleaning up and had the usual reaction."

"You were physically ill?"

"Yes."

"Your metaphor," Jennifer muttered quietly, nodding and scribbling notes.

Yes, Bella thought bitterly, my _metaphor_. My precise understanding of what the hell is actually going on. She kept her thoughts to herself.

"That must have felt like a huge betrayal of trust, Bella. It sounds like you've taken a healthy step in giving yourself some space."

The praise was empty. What did it matter? The heat of her anger regarding the whole truth of Jacob's death and the sense of Sue's betrayal were still as painful as before. Neither lessened her yearning to have Edward near, nor softened her resolve to be away from him until she could think more calmly. Not that he was far away. She hadn't reached out, and neither had he, but she didn't doubt he hovered just out of sight. He'd promised he wouldn't be far and that he wouldn't leave again.

She wanted to believe him with all of her heart.

And she wanted to make sense of the deeper feelings that the anger so effectively obscured.

"What's going on in your head right now?" Jennifer asked softly.

Wouldn't we both like to know? Bella thought. She debated lying to Jennifer, but decided that part of the truth was harmless enough to share. "I'm wondering if he'll leave again."

"Do you think that's likely?"

"I really don't know." She tried to shrug, but her shoulders felt too tight. "He promised he wouldn't but . . . " She couldn't finish the thought out loud.

"And what about you, Bella. Do you think you're likely to follow your own pattern?"

"God no." Her lips twisted around the words. She thought of the wasted time spent holed up in hospital wards and shook her head.

"You say that like you're certain."

"I am certain. I'm different now. I have children. I won't abandon them."

Jennifer scribbled more notes on her page. "Would it be fair to say that Edward might have also changed?"

Bella mulled this over. Yes, it would, if she _was_ being fair. But had he changed as much as she had? It was hard to say. Some things remained stubbornly the same. His overprotectiveness, his overcoddling—and yet, she couldn't deny the positive changes she saw every day . . .

"Would it?" Jennifer asked again.

"I suppose so," Bella muttered. She watched Jennifer make more notes, wondering what she was writing down. She decided she didn't want to know and let her eyes drift to the open window. The tips of a purple-leaved cherry waved at her in the breeze.

Jennifer's voice snapped her attention back to the room. "Sometimes, when we have relationships that span a length of time, or that are anchored in an earlier part of our lives, we can become rigid in the way we see them. It would be perfectly natural for you to be holding onto older ideas about who Edward is, or how you are together. Maybe even how he would react to a given situation."

Bella considered this idea carefully, and found it easier to accept than she had expected. "I suppose."

Her psychiatrist nodded and then posed another question. "Last time, you mentioned that you hadn't been sexually intimate with Edward. Has that changed?"

Bella wrestled with the topical whiplash, a hot blush making her feel uncomfortably warm. "No."

"I ask, because the closer, more trusting, and more intimate a relationship is, the greater the sense of betrayal, when difficult truths are revealed."

"No," Bella reiterated. Then she ground her teeth together again, knowing exactly where the woman was going, and what difficult memory she wanted to unearth.

"Have you told Edward about your first sexual experience?"

Bella groaned internally. There it was. "No." She let herself hope that Jennifer would leave it alone. Surely she could see today was difficult?

But no. No such luck. The woman flipped through her thick pad of notes, stabbing the offending page when it came into view, and then launching into a reading of the notes there.

Bella closed her eyes, and against her wishes, recalled the vivid event.

"_Yep," she said to Matt, as he swung their hands back and forth on the walk to his apartment, "you're my jam."_

"_Your jam, huh?"_

"_Exclusive jam," she said, nodding._

_He let go of her hand briefly to fiddle with the tricky lock on the door. Once he got it open, he pushed into it with his shoulder while wrapping his hand around hers. "Guess that makes you the peanut butter."_

_She giggled. They'd been seeing each other for just over six weeks. After several failed attempts, they'd finally managed to watch a movie together . . . or, at least sit in the theatre while it played, and enjoyed each other's company. _

"_So," she said between his kisses, "now that we can check a movie off our list, what should we tackle next?"_

"_Cute," he replied, grinning, and then whoofed out a "Hut!", pushing her down onto the couch._

_It had been Matt who squealed though, as she dug her fingers into his sides, tickling him mercilessly._

"_Fo-ul!" he cried. Then he kissed her again._

_She moved her hands to his shoulders and his chest. This pleasing set of activities continued, their hands becoming bolder in reach as they explored the territories of each other's bodies._

_He pulled back a little, drawing a disappointed, "What?" from Bella._

"_Mmm." He nuzzled his nose against her neck. "I want to make a sandwich."_

"_Seriously?" she laughed in relief. "We just ate!" She reminded herself that he played football too. He had a daunting appetite._

"_I was thinking about a peanut butter and jam sandwich."_

"_O—kay," Bella said, wondering why he was still sitting with her and not moving to the kitchen._

_Then he leaned in and kissed her again, scooping her up, strong arms tight under her legs and back._

"_Um—I can walk to the kitchen, and I'm not hungry."_

"_I know, peanut," he said, kissing and carrying her into his bedroom. "I figured an English major wouldn't need a metaphor explained." He laid her on the bed. "I'm the jam. You're the peanut butter." He fingered the sheets and smiled. "Metaphorical sandwich."_

"_Ah," she said with a flutter of nerves, and then kissed him. "I like sandwiches," she said huskily._

_She removed her own shirt, and Matt followed with his. The rest of their clothing disappeared in a series of incredibly uncoordinated movements that drew laughter from them both._

_Then things became much more serious, their bodies pressed to each other with an intimacy she hadn't known before. She wrestled with herself, trying to stay in the moment, trying to stay with him—but her mind strayed. Thoughts of Edward, and what this might have been like with him, intruded with far too much ease. _

_When Matt pressed into her, she gasped at the unexpectedly-sharp pain the action brought. The discomfort at least made her focus on the present and Matt's hands and kisses. He was gentle and slow, especially once her lack of experience had become clear, and the initial discomfort was quickly replaced with more pleasant sensations. These were fleeting, though, because then she caught the slight scent of blood. Panicked by her anticipated reaction, she frantically shoved Matt away, bolting for the bathroom._

"_It's okay," Matt said quietly, slipping a robe over her back as she stood before the toilet, hands sweeping her hair away._

"_I'm so sorry," she muttered, straightening up and going to the sink. She washed out her mouth, and then brushed away tears of shame. She hadn't told him about this particular symptom yet. She hadn't thought she'd need to. Her voice was a rough whisper when she spoke. "I can't handle smelling my own blood. I didn't expect_—"

"_I gotcha. It's okay." His hands were still on her, his voice gentle._

_That was when she really looked at him. He'd tied his plaid shirt around his front like an apron. It looked ridiculous, particularly with the centre of it tented around his groin. Her laugh bubbled up of its own accord._

_Matt followed the trajectory of her gaze, and then quirked an eyebrow. "Now, that's a reaction I can't say I really expected."_

_Mortified, she started to apologize, but could barely get it out for her laughter. "No. . . I didn't mean. . . I'm sorry, it's just—we were just, and—sorry. I get it. Thank you for—" she gestured back to the toilet, and then looked at him, all the while blushing furiously. "Thank you."_

_He smiled and held his arms open. She took the invitation, stepping into the embrace._

"_You okay?" he asked._

"_Yes."_

"_Good," he murmured._

_After a moment, she looked up at him. "I really screwed that up."_

"_Nice pun," he laughed. _

_She laughed too. "So, have I wrecked sandwiches for you?"_

"_Not in the slightest." _

"_Oh good. Want to, um . . ."_

"_Go finish making one?" he asked hopefully. _

_Bella took his hand. "Yes." _

Matt had been good to her, and knowing what being with her had cost him, she couldn't help but feel she hadn't deserved him. His children hadn't deserved to lose him, either.

Jennifer was still droning on about the details Bella had just remembered on her own. "You must see a connection between what happened at the birthday party, and this?" She finally asked.

"I'm sure you do," Bella gritted out.

Jennifer paused, letting her pen rest on the page, looking directly at Bella. "Success with this therapy requires your best efforts and good will, Bella. You've already mentioned your determination to succeed today. I don't think I need to remind you of what failure here will mean."

No. She didn't. But Bella was wrangling with a fresh wave of grief and guilt, chest too tight to be able to push out words. She shook her head, wiping at her eyes.

Jennifer waited.

Bella knew, very well, to what veiled threat her psychiatrist was referring, and that if the woman was bringing it up, she was walking a very fine line indeed. She needed to reassure her. "This is hard to talk about."

"Of course it is, but it's important that you do. Otherwise, your psychosis may be triggered again."

Bella made herself nod, grinding her molars together. "Yes. I'm sure there's a connection."

Jennifer waited, her gaze pointed and clear. When Bella didn't add anymore, she spoke again. "In addition to the betrayal you feel, I suspect there's some guilt too."

Fuck you, Bella thought. She repeated the silent utterance.

"Do you disagree?" Jennifer let this silence be longer.

"No," Bella finally admitted. It was true. She did feel guilty, but it was small, and for Matt. And he was dead. She could only repay that debt with love for their children. He wouldn't begrudge her happiness with Edward.

If she could stop being angry with Edward.

Jennifer switched tacks. "Have you spoken to your stepmother about what you've learned?"

"No."

"Do you plan to?"

God, no. "Not yet."

"She and your father have been an integral support system, Bella. You have no other family nearby." She frowned.

"I will speak with them, but one thing at a time."

"And what will the first thing be, in managing your feelings here?"

"Well, I'm here." She _would_ talk to Edward, she just needed . . . time. It hurt too much to even think of seeing him. She didn't probe too carefully at why, she only knew she had avoided doing so. The longer she put it off, the more she felt a gnawing sense she had forgotten something . . .

But Jennifer was shaking her head. "No. This is a hard line. You need an emotional support system." She glanced at the clock, nose wrinkling. "We're almost at time right now, but I want to follow up next week, and see what progress you've made towards a goal. So how are you going to move towards finding someone to talk to about this, aside from me?"

"I'll talk to someone."

"Who?"

"Esme," Bella said, pulling a name out of the air.

"And she is?"

"Edward's mother."

"And you'll be comfortable speaking with her?" Jennifer was making a rapid few notes.

"I guess I'll need to be," Bella sighed.

Their time done, Bella walked out of the office and towards the cool parkade. Inside her car, she let her head rest against the seat, closing her eyes. She'd been exhausted at the start of the appointment, and now she simply felt drained. She'd just rest for a moment, and then she'd go pick up the kids.

When she opened her eyes again, it was an hour later, and she sat up with a jerk. "Shit!" she hissed, fishing through her purse for her phone. She had ten minutes to get herself thirty minutes away in rush-hour traffic. She tapped her fingers against the dash as the number rang. No one picked up. It wasn't necessarily a bad sign—Mrs. Cho was often busy and couldn't always get to the phone. She tried not to think of other, more nefarious reasons as to why she didn't answer. . Even though she was on good terms with her caregiver, Bella had been late often enough to wear those good graces thin. She couldn't be late again.

Her best guess as to which Cullen was near her children was Esme. Swallowing her pride, she dialed her number next. Her suspicions were right, and Esme assured her she would pick them up and take them home.

Bella hung up and exhaled in relief, squirreling away her uneasiness. She'd said she'd talk to Esme, but she hadn't planned on doing it today.

"No time like the present," she mumbled, and turned over the ignition.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	29. What anger hides

A/N for 2019-08-04: There will be two chapters this week, as this one demanded splitting. Keep your eyes peeled for a mid-week posting.

My beta and I are of the same mind on this: there is a lot of information that will come at you in this chapter, and the next. Much of it relates to what is happening now but ALL of it is important to the rest of the story—and there is a lot of story still to come!

~ Erin

* * *

When Bella arrived home, it was clear that her kids had been entirely delighted to have Esme pick them up, Josh particularly, as Carlisle had been included in this bargain.

"Mama!" He greeted her at the front door. "Carlisle! Bubbles!"

Bella felt momentarily disconcerted, thinking he meant the cat, but then his stubby fingers pointed to the bathroom. She followed her excited, skipping boy, and found Carlisle waving a bubble wand at her.

"Bubbles," Josh repeated, looking at Carlisle, who obliged by blowing several glassy orbs over the tub.

"Thank you so much," Bella said to Carlisle and Esme, who had joined them.

"We're happy to help," Esme said, smiling softly.

Seeing Josh well in hand, Bella went back to sit beside Meredith in the kitchen, sharing a quiet moment with her while she finished a glass of milk. It was quick, and her eldest was soon off to her room, intent on something that required "privacy," scissors, and paper.

"Okay," Bella said to no one in particular, watching Mer disappear. She let her gaze sweep the kitchen. It bore the marks of some recent and efficient cleaning—certainly not anything she'd done herself. The chug of the washer was making the pans on the pot rack rattle. Someone had started the laundry.

"I wish you'd let us do more," Esme added, stepping quietly into the kitchen. She took at seat at the table, across from Bella.

"This was a huge help," Bella breathed out. She wouldn't miss the daycare drop-offs and pick-ups over the summer. Another part of her worried about how she would manage everything she still needed to handle, with her increasingly-lowered energy and swelling belly. For now, she didn't allow herself to think about the man she knew would willingly make it easier.

Like she was reading her mind, Esme tapped the seat of the chair beside her. "Put your feet up."

Bella rubbed her face wearily in her hands. "Thank you, but I should get dinner going—"

"I'll get dinner going. You put your feet up," Esme said, standing to indicate that the matter was settled.

_And she'd thought Edward could be bossy. _

The late afternoon bled into evening and Bella found herself smiling, watching Esme and Carlisle have fun with the children over dinner, their respective bath times, and finally, books before bed. She marvelled at how comfortable they made her feel even though they knew something of the situation between her and Edward. They seemed to be very careful about not taking sides and she was grateful.

"No," Josh said to Bella, pouting and shaking his head. "Man." Bedtime was apparently Josh's cue to inject some awkwardness into the evening. The last few nights, although he hadn't asked for Edward specifically, Josh had looked a little lost, but Bella had taken it as an expression of his obvious sorrow for Bubbles. Clearly he wanted to return to his former routine. Which she had made impossible, for now.

With a sudden inspiration, she asked him, "Do you want Carlisle to put you to bed?"

Josh cocked his head in Carlisle's direction, then nodded solemnly.

Bella glanced at the man in question, lifting her eyebrows in inquiry. She felt a twist of guilt for springing this on him.

"And what does bedtime require?" Carlisle asked.

Bella hid her smile. His voice was tinged with uncharacteristic worry. "A lot of sitting and waiting for him to go to sleep."

"Then I'm more than qualified," Carlisle said, holding out a hand for Josh to take.

Bella watched as they walked up the stairs together. Mer was already tucked in her own bed, happy with a book.

"He'll be fine," Esme said, her hand on Bella's back.

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Bella said. So far, so good, at least. She did wonder at the effect of vampires on children. Edward had always been stunning—literally—but perhaps there was more to it, the younger people were. She tucked the thought away for later.

"I was wondering if we could catch up for a bit, if you're free?" Esme asked.

If she was free. They'd freed up her whole evening. She chuckled. "I'd like that, thank you."

Settled in her living room, Bella curled her feet up under herself, watching Edward's gracious mother sit across from her. Esme's startling good looks seemed so at odds with her surroundings—a stray granola bar wrapper stuck out from under the couch, and a line of scribbled marker ran along the opposite wall..

Esme smiled gently before she spoke, rubbing her fingers over her other hand. Such human gestures. "How're you doing with everything?"

"I'm okay." It was true. She was. Sort of.

Esme's face wrinkled with concern. "Edward explained what happened—"

"Did he?" Bella's voice was sharper than she intended. She didn't apologize.

"I understand you are angry with him, Bella. I think we expected you to be angry with us, too. You have every right."

She did, but she wasn't angry with Esme, or Carlisle, or any of the others. Just with Edward.

Esme was still tracing patterns over her own hand with her fingers. "I'd wondered what you knew about our time away?"

Bella was a bit surprised she'd introduced the topic. "Not much, why?"

"Well, we know a lot about what happened to you when we were apart. I wondered if Edward had shared any of what we experienced."

Edward had definitely glossed over any details, only giving her a cursory list of events. Alice had been tight-lipped too. Bella had suspected there were things Edward feared her knowing, but she hadn't pressed about what, or why. Now Esme seemed to be offering some of the missing information, albeit in a roundabout manner. Bella's curiosity blossomed, and she leaned forward a little. She was sure her expression registered her interest.

Esme nodded a little, almost to herself. "It was a very sudden decision, Bella. I think you know that part. After your birthday, he came home the next morning and told us to pack up and leave. It was so unlike him to take the lead in that way that we allowed his sense of urgency to sway us—even Carlisle. Edward insisted we not say goodbye. He felt it would be cruel to prolong the farewell. And we listened to him." Her small smile was apologetic. "I'm sorry for that."

Bella only nodded, wanting her to go on.

"We initially went east to New York state, but didn't stay for long."

"Alaska," Bella murmured.

"Yes, for a time. Edward wasn't with us for the first part." Esme looked down at her hands for a moment.

"Where was he?"

"The southern states, Brazil, Mexico. A few other places. He tried to find Victoria. When he couldn't, he returned to us. And then," she stopped, looking at Bella directly and lowering her voice, "he was a very different boy."

"How so?" Bella hadn't missed it. _Boy._

Esme didn't answer right away. Instead, her fingers interlaced, like a child's at prayer. "Bella, I know you understand grief in a way few women your age can. But, you haven't lost any children, or lost any pregnancies, have you?" Esme asked.

Bella's forehead creased as she tried to puzzle out what Esme was getting at. "No."

"Mmm," Esme said, another sad ghost of a smile on her lips. "It changes you, when you lose a child. I lost my son when he was only a few days old. It's why I tried to kill myself."

Bella could hear the shock in her own voice as she whispered, "I'm so sorry." Edward had told her Esme had been injured in a bad accident. She hadn't understood how protectively misleading his wording had been until this moment.

Esme nodded at her apology, smiling a little wistfully. Bella wondered if Esme felt she had lost Edward in the time she was describing. "When you lose a child," Esme continued, "part of you disappears, and it doesn't ever come back. At least, not as far as I can tell." Her lips flickered in a brief smile again but it looked apologetic and sad. "It's the closest event I can think of to describe how it can be for us when a mate bond is broken. I haven't experienced it myself but I have heard from Carlisle how it can be. He knows of some of our kind who have lost their mates."

It was on the tip of Bella's tongue to say something about her own devastation when Edward had left her but she wanted Esme to continue so she stayed quiet.

Esme spoke again, but she had redirected her gaze to somewhere over Bella's shoulder. "When I first saw Edward again, he looked like I'm sure I did after my son died. It wasn't that obvious, and most of the family couldn't see it, but I could. He tried very hard to hide it and to pretend he was alright. Of course, being able to hear our thoughts, he knew what we wanted him to be like. If I so much as thought of him playing the piano—playing the music I remembered him playing when he was happy, he would go and play it. It wasn't the same, but he got very good at pretending that it was."

Here Esme's face flexed with anguish, and she met Bella's gaze again. "Forgive me, Bella, but I wanted to push him, and I did something very cruel. I thought of you, and I didn't stop thinking of you for hours at a time. Then, I thought of wanting him to play your lullaby. And like I thought he would, he went to play it for the first time since he left you. He sat down on the bench, put his hands on the keys, and then stopped. He kept doing that, putting his hands over the keys, and then dropping them into his lap.. He did that for almost an hour while I, God help me, kept pushing at him. When he finally stood up, I thought he was going to walk away, but instead he smashed his hands through the keyboard. I was watching him. He turned around and looked at me—"

Bella waited with bated breath.

"We're indestructible, Bella, but in that moment, I thought he would break—actually shatter into pieces in front of me just like the piano he had destroyed. I've never seen him so fragile, so ready to come apart—"

"Okay," Bella husked out, feelings flaring. She didn't want to hear any more of this. She didn't want to hear about Edward's pain, Edward's agony, the punishment Edward had suffered.

"You have the right to know what—"

"I've got it, Esme," Bella said, face reddening. She stood abruptly, too on edge to sit anymore.

Esme stretched out her hand as if to calm her. "I'm sorry, Bella. I just thought—"

But Bella couldn't even hear Esme's words.

"I JUMPED OFF A CLIFF SO I COULD SEE A HALLUCINATION OF HIM! I UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE BROKEN!"

Esme did the vampire equivalent of startling, and became perfectly still, her hand returning to her lap as she quietly watched Bella.

Pulling in several deep breaths, Bella calmed herself. "I'm sorry for yelling," she finally choked out, running a shaking hand through her hair. "I got my best friend killed, because I wanted to see Edward—and not even see _him_, just what my imagination told me was him." She turned and paced in the small space, forcing away an onslaught of uncertain feelings. Her anger was dissolving, watered down by the tears she kept trying to wipe away from her face.

Esme stood and approached her cautiously. "I don't mean to lessen anything you've experienced."

"You didn't," Bella said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I know you mean well and that Edward is . . . your son. I'm just . . ." She wasn't sure what she was, and a loud wail from upstairs prevented her from even beginning to figure it out. She flinched. She'd so hoped tonight would be better with Carlisle and Esme present.

Moving up the stairs, with Esme right behind her, Bella could hear Josh's distressed emanations growing in volume. "Mommy's coming, Josh!" she called. The wailing only increased. It was a full-blown shriek by the time she reached his room.

"MAN! MAN! MAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

"I know," Bella said, hurrying by Carlisle and trying to pick up Josh. Unlike some previous nights, Bella met an angry protest of small but powerful kicks and punches from her son.

Carlisle lifted Josh away silently, settling him back in his bed, then stepping back. Josh roared and launched himself at Carlisle.

Panicked by the damage she imagined their collision producing, Bella tried to lunge between them, but was held back by an unexpected set of hands at her hips.

Carlisle easily caught Josh, and then put him gently on the floor, a hand on his chest to keep him from trying to lunge again. It wasn't needed though. He'd stopped screaming, and was staring at Bella—or the person behind her.

Expecting Esme, Bella gasped when she turned to find Edward there instead.

"I'll go, if you want me to, but please let me help him first." He looked towards her son, offering him a small but sad smile.

"Man," Josh croaked, hiccoughing and sniffling. He reached out a hand tentatively as if to assure himself Edward was there.

Bella knew that feeling well and felt a twinge of pain at the memory.

"Hi, Josh," Edward said softly.

Frustrated, Bella wanted to tell Edward that he hadn't exactly given her much choice now that Josh could see him, but her heart was painfully torn between her son's need and her own guilt at not being able to soothe him. She reluctantly nodded her permission.

Esme and Carlisle slipped out of the room, and Bella followed, but stayed just outside the door, listening to Josh and Edward. After a moment, she heard the front door close as well. Apparently, the Cullens wanted to give them some privacy. She promised herself that she would check on Meredith in just a moment, but wanted the vicarious comfort of Edward's voice, even as it worked to soothe Josh.

"I missed you too," he said.

"Man," Josh said with an intonation that clearly meant more than the one word.

"I know. I'm sorry that happened to Bubbles. She was your special friend."

The wrenching guilt was too much after this, and Bella pulled herself away, walking briskly towards Meredith's room. Her eldest's newest nighttime book had slipped away from her hands, and her auburn curls were spread out in a messy nest over her pillow. "At least I'm not failing with you," she murmured. Wiping at her own cheeks again, Bella put away the book, trying not to hear anymore of the conversation coming from Josh's room. She turned off the light, and closed Meredith's door, sitting down in the hall chair, waiting.

Edward's soft, "Bella," startled her from her light doze. It was dark, and Edward was haloed by the soft glow of the hall's night-light.

"Whuh?" She said, blinking. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was, and why Edward was there. Her brain's first explanation was that she was hallucinating again. The second recalled the contradiction of the last month.

"He's asleep," Edward whispered. "But before I go, I should explain why he was upset . . . if it's alright for us to talk?"

She responded by bursting into tears.

He crouched in front of her, his worried face visible through her blurry vision. He tentatively brushed her fingertips with his. She wanted to grab his hand with both of hers and not let go, but she made herself wrap her arms around herself instead.

"I've been so angry with you, Edward, and with everyone else, and it hasn't been fair." She wiped her face with her sleeve.

Now he looked confused. "How so?"

"I yelled at Esme, because I was afraid she would keep talking about what happened to you."

Now he frowned, a hint of anger in the angles of his face. "I heard that part. It wasn't her place to tell you those things—"

"No, it was," Bella said, shaking her head, wiping at her nose again, "But I think it would be better if _you_ told me."

"Then let's go downstairs," Edward said, nodding towards Josh's room. "They're both still asleep, but I think it might be a difficult night for him."

She didn't take the hand he offered, pushing herself up to standing with some awkwardness, then leading the way downstairs to the kitchen.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	30. Faults

Author's Note for 2019-08-07: I wish I had a way to quantify just how many hours my beta works on this story (I actually spent time on google docs attempting to figure this out!). I'm quite sure the total would rival my writing time. I cannot express enough thanks to Eeyorefan12 for the work she puts into this fic.

Progress update: I'm currently working on chapter 46 of this story, and hope to finish the remaining five chapters of the story soon.

A quick note about guest reviews: I know some of you don't have accounts, and don't want to get them, but dang, I do wish we could chat about some of your really thoughtful comments. It's a nice feature of the site to be able to reply, via private message, to users who leave such insightful reviews.

Speaking of which: I read all your reviews, praising and critical, and recognize the truths they present. In that vein, I'd like to address a few comments that have been posted to the story.

Many of you have expressed frustration with Bella for her anger towards Edward and the situation at large, calling her childish, immature, whiny, etc. She certainly could be seen that way. However, the title for the last chapter was, "What anger hides," because anger truly does protect people from feeling far more disturbing emotions. It can take some time to gather the strength—and perspective—to pull back that protective layer. I think you'll see that in this next chapter.

Another reviewer mentioned that Josh was obviously Autistic. Yes, he is, as mentioned earlier on in the story. However, the reviewer went on to say that he was in "need" of intervention, almost as if Bella has been remiss in not securing this service for him. I would argue that what all people need, Autistic or not, is understanding, love and acceptance. Not a structured regime forcing them to adapt—regardless of their desires—to the world around them. The very premise of ABA (behavioural intervention) therapy is one that sees Autistic people as broken. I assure you, they are not. The world, however, is not a terribly kind or welcoming place for people who are seen to be different. I have many, many mixed feelings about ABA therapy, and I would encourage you to listen to the voices of Autistic people in understanding why this therapy is not the magic solution it is so often presented as.

But I digress.

And you have a chapter to read. I look forward to hearing your responses.

~ Erin

* * *

Bella fussed for a little while in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, absent-mindedly almost offering Edward something to drink, then stopping herself, and chuckling despite everything.

"What?" Edward asked.

"Nothing." Her sense of humour was so misplaced, it felt psychotic. The thought was chilling.

By the time she sat down across from him at the table, her courage had shrunk, and she steeled herself for the rest of the conversation. "Esme was going to talk about what happened with the Volturi, wasn't she?" She watched Edward carefully as she spoke, and the minute flinch of pain that crossed his forehead did not go unnoticed. Yes, she'd been right. "It was bad, wasn't it?"

"I'd prefer not to talk about it." Edward's voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it that told her there'd be no wavering on this.

"And I haven't really wanted to talk about what happened to me, but I have. For you." Her tone matched Edward's. She too would not be moved in her resolution to know but the subject was clearly so agonizing for him, she wanted to avoid causing him more pain.

"You know the outcome. There's nothing to be gained in the grisly details."

She hated herself for agreeing, but it was true—though not in the way he would think. "If we're going to be together, I need to understand what you went through when we were apart."

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "You still want . . . us?"

"I do." Her voice shook. "I love you, and I'm sorry for hurting you by asking you to leave. I needed the time to understand what's been upsetting me." The guilt squirmed in her stomach, and she pressed on. "I want to know, though, what happened."

"You _don't_ want to know, Bella. Please believe me when I tell you that." His jaw had tightened again. "It serves no useful purpose."

She had to pause to consider her choice of words. "Edward, you know what the last ten years of my life have been like—and you know some of the horrific things I've experienced. I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty—I'm saying it because if we're going to be together, we should share difficult things together."

While Edward's eyebrows drew together and he gave a slight nod, his lips remained tightly closed.

"I need to understand what's been hard for you too," Bella said softly. "I don't want there to be years of secrets between us." She watched him wrestle with her request and his desire, as always, to give her what she was asking for. The minute contortions of his face were testament to his internal battle.

When he finally spoke, it was preceded by a slow exhale. "Alice saw them coming a few days beforehand. She didn't see much, just that they would visit. We knew it would be within the season, but that was all. I thought the anticipation was the worst part, which was so foolish. I was stupidly relieved by the time they actually arrived." He paused, his forehead wrinkling. "How much do you actually know about the Volturi?"

"They enforce your one rule. That's about it."

He nodded curtly. "The leaders—Aro, Caius, and Marcus—rarely travel. They send members of their guard to do most of their dirty work. So it was Jane, Demitri, Alec and Felix who came to see us." He swallowed hard and turned his face away for a moment.

How bad it must have been. "What did they do?" Bella almost whispered.

"They told us that they'd heard chatter of a human girl from Forks talking about our kind."

She felt herself shiver. "And how did they find that out?"

He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, they surveil, just as most security forces do. They've mastered the technology, and with their numbers, they don't lack for the ability to monitor what they collect. Not sleeping has its advantages." His voice was bitter.

Bella nodded, wondering how much the Volturi knew of her now, or her family. She tucked those questions away for later.

"Then they asked us about you, by name," Edward said.

It was her turn to swallow hard.

"I was honest, and told them I'd confirmed your suspicions. You knew what we were."

This was startling to hear. She'd expected the Cullens to lie—to protect themselves. "But they could've—"

"Killed us? It appeared unlikely, so I took a chance. They don't know about my gift, so I was able to hear their true intentions. It was how I learned about what had happened to you—and your supposed psychosis. I also saw that they would pass off their lenience as a benefit of Carlisle's friendship with Aro. By the time they reached us, you had already been so thoroughly discredited, that your claims were the flimsiest pretext upon which to make their trip."

Bella waited, lungs barely moving. Edward's narration sounded formal and expressionless. She had always thought of this manner of speech as his 'medical voice', but was beginning to realize she only heard it in times of stress for her, or for himself.

"Many of their guard are talented, like me, or Jasper and Alice. I couldn't figure out how, but they'd learned of Alice and Jasper's abilities. Jane explained that Aro would appreciate their voluntary service in the guard. Alice and Jasper, of course, politely declined. So Jane used other means to persuade them."

A chill settled in Bella's stomach, as she thought of her conversations with Jake. She had told him what Alice and Jasper could do. But not Edward. Never Edward.

"What did she do?" she made herself ask.

Edward closed his eyes. "She tortured them."

He said it so quietly, she doubted her hearing and repeated the words. "She . . . tortured you?"

"Esme," Edward whispered, his eyes on her again. "She tortured Esme first. And they made us watch."

Bella's knew her expression reflected her horror at his revelation. "Oh my God." What had she done, in saying _anything_?

Edward's features were smooth, but his breathing was rapid and shallow, and Bella knew it had nothing to do with his needing air.

"What . . . happened?" she finally dared to ask. She needed to know what her words had done. Her stomach twisted, thinking of the gentle woman she had come to love, her kindness, her open and generous heart. Her fierce devotion to her family—which she had always made clear included Bella.

Edward's hand twitched, as if he had planned to lift it and changed his mind. "Jane can . . . hurt people. Not physically. But she can make your mind believe you are experiencing the most profound pain you could ever imagine—like our change, only worse, without actually doing any physiological damage."

Bella shuddered, fingers encircling her own wrist. The crescent scar there marked what had been her brief but memorable taste of the pain which Edward had referenced.

"They kept asking Alice and Jasper for their answer, and Esme kept screaming at them to refuse." His voice remained low, his words clipped and stilted as he tried to hide what this retelling was costing him. His attempt was unsuccessful.

What had she done? Bella forced herself to keep her eyes on him as every word he spoke only added to the agony she felt. Edward was staring vaguely in her direction but his eyes appeared unfocused. She thought momentarily of reaching to touch him across the table but the moment it occurred to her, she heard him continue.

"They made Alice and Jasper watch, of course. Alec made it so the rest of us couldn't move, or hear or see what was going on." Edward's eyes finally met hers. "He can do that, you know. He can deaden all your senses with his ability." _No, she didn't know. _"In my...father's case, I was actually grateful. But I . . . " His voice trailed off as he blinked once and glanced around as if he had just noticed where he was. This time she did take his hand, holding it between her own.

"But you?" she prompted gently, wanting more than anything to ease his pain, whatever it was. She needed to know.

Edward looked at their entwined hands and he stroked one of hers gently with his thumb. "As it turns out, Alec's gift had no effect on mine. I couldn't see or hear through my own eyes and ears but I could through his, and Jasper's, and Alice's—"

"And Esme's," she breathed, the horrified revelation making her pull her hands from his and wrap her arms around herself.

Edward's eyes were still focused on the table as he kept speaking. "When Jane's efforts weren't effective, she stopped, and Felix stepped in. He started removing—amputating—pieces of . . . Esme."

Bella's stomach churned.

He still didn't look at her. "Do you understand now, why I didn't want to tell you this?"

Bella could only nod woodenly, whispering, "I'm so sorry." Her cheeks were wet. She'd started crying, and hadn't even realized it. "There's more, isn't there?"

"Yes," Edward said. He finally looked up and studied her face for a moment. "But Bella, your heart rate is—"

She shook her head. "No," she said firmly, even as the tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Keep going."

He did. "They finally stopped . . . tearing at Esme. It wasn't their intention to kill any of us. Then Jane turned her attention to Rose. " He looked down, swallowing. "Rose is very strong, though, and she fought back. That was when Demetri decided things were taking too long and he was going to take over. It was when he made it clear he was going to. . . _hurt_ her, that Jasper said they'd go with them." His disgusted emphasis on that one word made Bella's skin crawl and she shivered involuntarily.

"I'm so sorry," Bella said for what felt like the hundredth time. The words seemed meaningless when measured against everything he'd told her.

His hand brushed a tear from her cheek. "It's nothing you need to apologize for, Bella."

She closed her eyes; the burden of her own shame was too crushing to carry any longer." It _was_ my fault, Edward." she said softly, lifting her eyes to his. "The Volturi came because of what I said. If I hadn't told anyone, they would've had no excuse—"

Edward shook his head. "The Volturi would have invented a reason. It was only a matter of time. Clearly, they'd been watching us for an infraction that would give them cause."

"But I _said_ something, Edward!" Her voice was growing in volume and pitch. "I told everyone who would listen to me about you, and the wolves. I could have kept my mouth shut, but after Jacob died—I chose to tell. I wasn't insane. I didn't have a psychotic break, I broke my promise—"

Edward had taken one of her hands now. "I broke your heart, and left you in horrific circumstances—with a vampire ready to kill you. My God! I left you with a pack of adolescent werewolves at your door—"

She cut him off, pleading for him to listen. "But I said I would never tell, Edward, and I meant it, and I didn't keep that promise. I told Jake about Alice and Jasper, too. " The tears had returned in full force as the implication of that fact became clear to her. "That's how the Volturi found out. I'm completely to blame for what you and your family went through, and I'm responsible for Jacob's death. If I'd done as you asked—"

"No," he said, cupping her face with both his hands now. "No. There is no point in this. This is all done and gone. We've both suffered enough. Wallowing in guilt won't make anything better."

She could feel herself trembling with emotion as she leaned back to remove herself from his gentle hold. The sudden loss of his touch was painful but she needed the separation. She couldn't say what she needed to with his hands and eyes on her so intimately. "I _haven't_ been wallowing in it, Edward. The other day, when I realized what and when Sue would've known, I thought I was still angry with you, because you'd known too for so long. But it wasn't that. It's taken me a few days to put this all together—and Esme, really talking about what you went through that made me understand. I've been denying all my own failures and faults. It was so easy to blame you for leaving, and just be angry, but if I'm truthful, I gave up on _you_. I told people what you are and endangered your entire family. I endangered the pack—No!," she said fiercely, seeing him try to speak again. "You need to hear this and I need to say it. I forced the pack to discredit me. How else would they protect their secret?"

"The pack can take care of themselves. Do you really think that anyone would have given your claims around wolves and vampires any credence?"

"No," she said, "but I still forced their hand. They couldn't just let it be."

"They had far better choices," he said darkly. Then his features softened as he looked at her, clearly understanding that she needed her admission to be acknowledged. "But I hear you, Bella. I hear what you are trying to say. And…" He took a long breath as if preparing for something that took great effort, "I accept your apology, as unnecessary as I think it is, on behalf of _our_ family."

Bella nodded with relief, hoping her eyes expressed her gratitude for his concession; her throat felt too tight with emotion to say more at the moment.

He laid his hand on the table, palm up, and waited. When she placed her hand in his, he gave it a little squeeze. "If you're feeling up to it, will you tell me what happened with Jacob?"

Her stomach sank at the question, but she swallowed her own troubled feelings. He'd shared his own hard truth. It was only fair that she did too.

It was a particularly vivid memory, unlike so many of the others she had from that time. "I jumped off a cliff, wanting to see you." A ghost of a smile flickered over her lips, hiding her embarrassment.

Edward's expression was mildly alarmed, but he only nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"I hadn't realized how turbulent the water was. I was able to swim for a bit, but the waves shoved me back against the cliff. I'm guessing I hit my head, because I didn't remember how I got out of the water. When I came to, I was on the beach, coughing up water. Jake was there and he said he was going to get me to the hospital." A shiver ran up her spine. "Then he jumped away and transformed, and Victoria was on him."

It had been terrifying. Victoria had been vicious, swiping and slashing and then dancing away. Bella had heard, rather than seen the snap of Jacob's neck, her mind accepting, in horrifying slow motion, the sight of her friend's human body falling onto the rocky shore. She'd waited for her own end then, knowing there was no point in running, when three other wolves had converged on Victoria, ripping and tearing at her before she'd managed to slip out from under them, disappearing into the wild waters of the sound. Pieces of her had littered the beach.

"Sam tried to calm me down," Bella said. "I was pretty hysterical. After he tried talking to me, it was pretty clear that it wasn't going to work, so he slapped me."

Edward's jaw twitched, but the rest of him remained like stone. Bella swallowed nervously, and continued on.

"That didn't work either. I guess I was still crying and delirious. So they took me to Billy's, while they told him what had happened." Her throat tightened, and the tears spilled out onto her cheeks again. "He didn't say anything to me then, but he knew it was my fault, and he blamed me."

"His werewolf son was killed by a vampire, and he blamed you?"

"I put Jacob in her path, Edward. Billy was right to blame me. Anyway, Sam—you know Sam is their leader, right?"

"Yes," Edward said, the word short on his tongue.

"He drove me home but he kept telling me I couldn't say anything about how Jake died, and that I needed to say he'd broken his neck jumping from the cliff—but I couldn't seem to shut up about Victoria."

"You were very likely in shock, Bella."

She doubted it. Everything around her had felt unnaturally clear and bright. "When my Dad got home, he was freaked out enough by what I was saying to take me to the hospital. They moved me to Port Angeles General a few days later." She wasn't sure if he knew the rest of it, but it wasn't a story she wanted to share any more of right now.

Both of them were quiet for several moments. Bella wondered if Edward was as lost in his own memories as she was in hers. Their conversation had been difficult but she felt proud that they had navigated it this well. She knew that what she had asked Edward to share with her had caused him pain, but he had done as he had promised and told her what she wanted to know. She would have preferred not to ask her last question—to avoid having her worst fears confirmed—but she wanted to collect all the wrongs she needed to own. There was no point in hiding from them anymore.

"What happened after, with the Volturi and Alice and Jasper? After they . . ."

His forehead wrinkled. "After they 'accepted' their invitation?"

Bella swallowed, and nodded, the guilt still curdling in her gut. "They're still here. So, they didn't have to go with them?"

Now Edward smiled almost apologetically. His, "No," was soft. "No, not yet. They asked for time to put their affairs in order."

He made it sound like they were preparing to die. "Their affairs—"

"It's a permanent position. They won't come back."

She couldn't even mask her horror. "But—they can't. Your family—oh my God, if I hadn't—"

Edward's fingers were tighter over hers. "They did it for our family, Bella. It wasn't because of you. The Volturi would have found another way to snare Alice and Jasper." He reached out to brush a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes. "We're not without hope in keeping our family together. We'll figure something out."

Bella wanted to believe his hopeful statement, but struggled. She gave him a wan smile.

"I'm sorry, again, for everything my leaving put you through." he said. "We _will_ end Victoria and her helpers. And I will see you be happy again too."

Her throat was taut with feeling. "I _have_ been happy with you, Edward. I just wasn't sure I deserved it—"

She couldn't say anything else, because he'd erased the space between them, a kiss stopping her words. By the time it ended, she didn't want to talk about how she didn't deserve him, she wanted to crawl into his lap and not ever leave again.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	31. A Name

A/N for 2019-08-11: Eeyorefan12 knows these characters like the back of her own hands. And I am grateful for her sharing those insights in this story, and with you. She really is an amazing beta.

This chapter feels pretty big to me. Hope you all enjoy it.

~ Erin

* * *

"Will you come sit with me?" Bella asked him. They were still at the kitchen table, foreheads pressed together.

"I do believe I am sitting with you," Edward said gently. Playfully. She didn't have to see his expression to know he was smiling.

She felt herself doing the same, and then asked, fairly certain of what the answer would be, "Will you hold me?"

"Yes," he breathed. He took her hand to help her out of her chair and lead her to the living room before picking her up and settling them on a couch. He pressed his lips into her hair. She could feel him inhale, and she was glad, because she had her arms wrapped around his neck, nose stuck into his shirt, doing the exact same thing. Years before, Edward had explained to her that his scent was only designed to draw in prey, but for Bella it had always felt like home. Now it was true again.

"I've missed you so much," he murmured.

"Me too." She tightened her grip, feeling like she couldn't get close enough to him.

They stayed this way for a while, their mutual embrace relaxing as each of them calmed from the emotional storm of a few minutes before. Bella released her grip first, loosening her fingers to smooth over a wrinkle in Edward's shirt. He stroked her hair back from her face with one hand.

"You're tired," he said.

"A little," she admitted.

"Has it been hard with Josh?" His fingers traced the muscles in her back.

"Yes." She sighed. "He's missed you a lot."

Edward nodded but didn't say more. She realized that he'd probably figured that much out from whatever Josh had shared with him upstairs. Now she wondered what else there had been.

"What did you want to tell me about him?"

"It's alright," Edward said. "I don't think it's that important right now."

This verbal evasion did not hearten her. If anything, a flurry of dire possibilities made her stiffen. "What do you mean?"

Edward's fingers continued to brush gently across her back, moving to soothe her. "I'm sorry," he said. "Of course you need to know. Josh was afraid I wouldn't come back, like his father, or the cat. And," he hesitated only briefly, "he was a little concerned that he might have done something wrong . . ." Edward let his voice trail off, apparently deciding that she could work out the rest of that thought on her own.

She took a deep breath as she realized what he was telling her. _Oh, my poor Josh. _Yes, she had needed to know that.

Edward's arms tightened. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She realized Edward didn't fully understand all the worries she carried. "I know," she whispered. "I just wish I had spared him the anxiety over you." She felt stupid for not having made this most basic of connections. She'd been so preoccupied with her own mess of feelings, she'd neglected her children's. She was descending into the endless well of maternal recriminations when Edward spoke again.

"Don't," Edward said. "We're here and we're together. Let's move forward and focus on what's next."

Bella agreed with moving forward, but she thought of the many challenges Josh already faced. Edward helped with some, but not all. Josh would need what felt like an unimaginable amount of support to simply learn how to interact with others, and make friends and—everything. All this on top of the great grief his tiny body carried. The air felt heavy, leaving her chest in a long sigh.

"He will be okay. They both will." Then Edward smiled and rested his hand on the small lump at her abdomen. "This one too, though I wish you'd rest more."

No, he wasn't a parent. Not yet. But he was making a good start.

She let herself laugh a little at his last comment. "I don't think I could rest any more than I have this evening." She looked over at the couch facing them. The errant granola wrapper was gone. The toys had been tidied, and—she reached her hand out—yes, the coffee table had been dusted. The Cullens were helpful in so many ways, and she felt a rush of gratitude.

"You're growing a life. It's a lot of work on top of living your own, and caring for other little lives too," he reminded her.

"It's what moms do," she countered, shrugging.

"Yes, it is," he sighed. "And it is late, and you have work in the morning."

She lifted her eyebrows. "Are you attempting to send me to bed, like an errant child?" He wasn't, was he?

"Oh no, I know better than that." Edward smiled, and kissed her forehead. Then he nuzzled his way down her cheek, claiming first her upper, and then lower lip. "I don't want to send you to bed like a child," he murmured. "If anything, I want you to ask me to your bed as a woman. When you're ready."

She shivered a little at his tone, accepting another kiss. Not so long ago she would have stiffened with apprehension. She hadn't been ready yet for what Edward referred to, but she might be now.

As his kisses continued against her neck, Bella marvelled at the way things had changed between them since their time in Forks. He would've dictated subtley then, dismissiveness or paternalism colouring his tone. That was rarely there now, and what little she noticed was mostly directed to concerns about her health.

Edward moved back a bit on the sofa, helping her slide from his lap and settle beside him. His arm remained around her, though, as if he couldn't release her completely. She liked the feeling. "What do you want to do then?" he asked her.

How different indeed.

"You're staying?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Until you repeatedly chase me away. And even then, you might need to involve Emmett and Jasper." He said it with such a straight face that she couldn't help a small giggle.

"Good," she said, still smiling a little. "I'm sorry that I keep asking you—"

"Don't be. You have every right to worry about it, because I did leave. I think it will be a while before that anxiety fades. I can wait. "

She sighed again, letting herself lean against his chest, her flushed face feeling more comfortable against the coolness of his chest. After a few minutes, she yawned. "I think I should head to bed, if I'm going to be more than a warm body in class tomorrow."

Edward picked her up without comment, taking her in the direction of the stairs. For once, she didn't argue about being carried as he whispered soft, chaste kisses over her face. The night ended with the equally gentle kiss of sleep twinned with the cool comfort of Edward's body beside her own.

\- 0 -

It was one thing to find the steps to the dance of their relationship, but it was another thing entirely to manage the unchoreographed chaos that was life with children. Another day had passed before they had time to find a moment to talk about more than such immediate issues as who was picking up the children and what to have for dinner

Bella was pulling a brush through her hair that night, trying to get the last tangles out of the back before getting into bed.

"Do you want me to help?" Edward asked.

She was so used to doing this herself that her knee-jerk reaction was to say no, but the offer of such an intimacy overpowered it. "Sure."

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Edward worked gently through the strands, teasing out the little knots that had formed at the nape of her neck. She sighed. It felt nice. Matt had usually brushed Mer and Josh's hair. They'd always complained that Bella did it too hard. She wondered if Edward would live up to their expectations on that front. If his current ministrations were any indication, there would be no problem.

This made her thoughts circle back to Meredith's question from earlier that evening.

"_Are you a dad?" her daughter asked Edward, as he sat with them at dinner._

"_Not yet," he said airily._

"_You do lots of dad stuff," she persisted._

_He smiled at her, sliding a small forkful of food into his mouth. Then he winked at Bella, who rolled her eyes at him. He knew very well that she watched him like a hawk at every meal he pretended to eat with them, trying to finally catch him at the disappearing game that was a Cullen art form. She'd yet to succeed. _

"_Man!" Josh contributed, looking at Meredith, and then Edward. He smiled, flashing a set of broccoli-covered teeth. "Trees!" he added, taking another bite of his vegetables._

"_It's bro-cco-li," Mer said. "Say, 'bro-cco-li.'"_

"_Tree!" Josh replied._

The questions about who exactly Edward was, had disappeared then, at least for the children. They remained for Bella.

She paused him in his hairbrushing task, turning to face him.

"Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was thinking about Mer's question."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, not supplying more, but waiting for her.

"I know what you are to me, but I'm not sure how to explain that to the kids."

"What, 'Man', isn't cutting it for you?" he quipped, chuckling.

She snorted out a laugh. "Cute. While that seems to be working for Josh, I suspect Meredith might want to have a more concrete label to use with her friends."

"So what words would you use?" Edward asked, his voice soft.

She reached out and fingered the hem of his shirt as she looked up at him. "The man I love."

"That's a bit of a mouthful for a five-year-old." His words were playful but she could still tell that she had affected him. He set down the hairbrush and took her hand in his.

"Okay, 'Man', you give me one then."

"Oh, that's easy. _You _are my sun," Edward said.

She wanted to give him a witty retort, but didn't. His light tone hadn't fooled her. She knew the weight of such words. This was more than finding labels.

"A man with metaphors," she said instead. "Hmm." She could appreciate those.

"I've had simpler ones for you, but they haven't been right. My love, my mate. my _soulmate _. . ." He shook his head.

"Those don't work for you anymore?" she asked. She would have liked the last one to have stuck.

"No. They didn't communicate the truth of what you are. For me, there isn't much point to living without the sun."

The gravity of his statement was stunning. She struggled to speak, her heart swelling with emotion. Finally, she cleared her throat. "So you've taken 'sun.' Feeling like I'm short on options here."

He smiled, that crooked display that made her heart skitter a few beats. Leaning over, he kissed her.

When it ended, she breathed out, "I could always tell them you're my preferred intoxicant."

He laughed out loud, hard enough to make the whole bed shake. It was a delightful sound and she wanted to hear it again.

"What?" she asked, chuckling.

He shook his head, squeezing her hand. "I was wondering what you're like, when you're intoxicated."

"Behold," she said, waving a hand at her face.

He shook his head. "No, I mean actually intoxicated."

"Oh," she said, smiling. "Well, you'll have to wait and see." She patted her stomach.

"Tch," Edward said, leaning towards her and kissing her neck. "A glass or two of something is perfectly safe in pregnancy."

Bella pulled back. "Seriously? You, _Doctor_ Edward Cullen, are telling me that drinking is safe during pregnancy?"

"One or two drinks is very different from _drinking_."

"Not in my books, it isn't."

"Then let me get you some better books to read."

She giggled as he pulled her onto his lap.

"Really, it is. France is testament to that." He waved his hand eastward.

Matt and Bella had both been sticklers on the no drugs, no alcohol, no anything that might cause harm during her pregnancies. She'd felt guilty just _thinking _of missing an occasional glass of wine.

"I'll take that under advisement," she said. She'd also ask her midwife when Edward wasn't around. "But we've kinda gone off topic here. I need to talk to Mer and Josh, and give them some words for who you are to me, and to us."

"What are you thinking, then?"

She sighed, sitting on his lap. "I love you. I want to tell them that, and that it doesn't mean I didn't love their Dad. I especially want them to know they should still love him and we can talk about him, whenever they want to."

"That sounds good." He tucked a bit more of her hair away from her face. "It's important for them to remember."

Bella wondered for a moment why he had added that last comment. Perhaps he felt guilty about usurping Matt's role in their lives? Then it came to her: in all the ways that mattered, Edward had been adopted by another man when he had lost his father. Although it had been long ago, vampire memories were powerful. She couldn't think of anyone she knew who would understand her childrens' situation any better.

She struggled for her next words, knowing he was aware of that fact but he was patient. "And while I have no issue calling you my lover," she continued, "somehow, I think that might raise some eyebrows coming off the lips of a five or two-year old."

Edward chuckled now. "Lubber," he quipped.

This sent Bella into a paroxysm of giggles. Josh had trouble with 'V's, and they were often produced as a darling 'B'. "Okay, maybe I'd be cool with that from the two-year old," she admitted between her snickers. "But really, what am I going to introduce you as?"

"Well, boyfriend worked before." He shrugged.

She groaned.

"What?" he asked. "Are you embarrassed to know me?" This was accompanied by a sardonically-lifted eyebrow.

"No. It's just . . . it's difficult to have people think of you as less than what you are to me. It feels wrong to introduce you as just my boyfriend, but—"

"Then don't," he said, voice utterly serious.

Her heart had definitely stuttered. Now she licked her lips. "Pardon?"

"Marry me," he whispered.

She blinked, or she thought she did, and realized after a moment that she was staring at him. His words had been so unexpected that she felt like her brain was trying to catch up to their meaning. His body had gone still beneath her, and it was then that she realized what her hesitation was costing him.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head slightly. "It's too—"

"Yes," she blurted out.

It was his turn to stare, not saying anything. He brushed her cheek with his fingers, his touch so tentative that he could have been trembling.

"Yes," she said again, more softly.

His sudden smile was so wide she couldn't help but match its breadth. She lost herself in the long, deep kiss that came next, only stopping when he pulled away so she could breathe.

"I like the sound of fiancé," he said.

"I like it too." She liked even better the solidity of its promise, and the way he looked at her as he said it. There were other practicalities that sat less easily with her, but they were small in the scope of a whole life together.

"This is not how I planned to ask you." Edward looked embarrassed.

"You've been planning?" She felt stupidly pleased about this revelation.

She could've sworn she saw a flush in his cheeks. "No, more just fantasizing. For about the last ten years."

"Ah." Yes. She could imagine it. He hadn't come back to her because he thought it unsafe for them all. But he had thought of her—she believed that now—and missed her. And he wanted her. "What did you plan, in these fantasies?" She spread her hands over his chest, hoping the gesture was intimate and not silly. Seduction had never been her strong suit.

"Taking you to dinner." Edward's curious eyes were on her hands.

"Very cliché." Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt. She saw the muscles of his throat move as he swallowed.

"Even at The Tea House?" he asked. The words sounded a little forced. Maybe she was better at this than she thought.

She considered the venue, beautiful but expensive, though redeemed by its sea-side setting and nearness to the city's wide swath of park-land. "Definitely cliché." She slid her hands further up his chest, reaching for the buttons at his collar.

"Hmm," he said, then was silent for a bit. He raised his eyes to hers. "But mostly, I've thought of the day I left you in the woods."

Bella's fingers stopped moving.

"And how much I've wanted to redeem that horrific mistake. How much better it would've been to ask you to stay with me forever then, because I wanted to. I wanted to ask you to marry me, Bella, even that day." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I've fantasized about having that moment back, and giving you different words, not breaking your heart. You deserved so much better, and I'm afraid you deserve so much better now. Are you sure you want me? It will mean giving up other things, things that are important to you."

"Don't doubt my answer," she said, her voice low and serious. She returned her hands to her lap. Now was not the time. "I want you now in every way, just like I wanted you to stay then."

"I really don't deserve you, do I?"

"Nope," she said, elbowing him gingerly in the ribs, "but you've got me anyway. So don't screw it up by being all agonized over it."

For the second time that evening, his laugh was loud and genuine—although he quieted immediately, probably thinking of the sleeping children nearby. "I love you so much."

"Me too. And if you really want, you can plan a whole cliché proposal and do this all over again, because the answer won't change."

As he wrapped his arms around her and drew her back against his chest, she surrendered willingly.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Edward murmured into her hair, voice thick with emotion.

She smiled to herself as she allowed the joy of this moment, finally realized after so much sorrow, to flow through her, sharing it with the man she loved.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	32. Two Blushing Pilgrims

A/N for 2019-08-18: I'll begin with a reading recommendation: I'm currently working through _Prelude in C_ by AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed. It's marvelous and criminally under-reviewed (and my beta's "favorite canon Twilight fanfic of all time"). It explores the Cullens' origin story, beginning with Carlisle and Edward, and then Esme. The prose is solid to begin with, with some really nice stylistic development as it goes on. The real gem in this story is the depth to which the characters are explored. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm treating myself to a few chapters every day.

As always, I direct my heartfelt thanks to Eeyorefan12 for not only her excellent editing skills, but for her incredible insights when it comes to these characters and their development.

Just a heads up, this chapter does make reference to _Romeo & Juliet,_ Act 1, Scene 5.

I think you'll rather enjoy this lengthy chapter, and I look forward to hearing your reactions.

~ Erin

* * *

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand  
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:  
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand  
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

_Romeo & Juliet_, Act 1:5

They were lying in bed, enjoying the kindness of a slow Saturday morning. It had been almost ten days since they'd come back together, and Edward had barely left her side, only disappearing when she went to work.

Bella put down her well-marked copy of _Romeo & Juliet_, her new sticky note stuck between the pages. She kept a stack of books by the bed, pen and paper on hand for those middle-of-the-night inspirations that wanted recording. This one had struck her just as she'd woken up.

Edward picked the book up from where she'd put it down, flipping through a few pages. "I do not understand what compels the modern school system to make children suffer through this mangled notion of a love story."

Bella arched an eyebrow at him. "They don't. I just happen to like it."

He made a good imitation of a cough, looking appropriately abashed. "Right."

She smiled a little coyly at him. "It's also the play assigned to this grade at my school, and there aren't any others in the book room."

"I forgive you your literary choices then, Ms. Hamilton," Edward said, leaning in to kiss her.

"Oh really?" She smiled. She treasured the appearance of this playful Edward. She hadn't seen so much of him since they'd been together again.

"Really. Romeo was an idiot. Trust me. Takes one to know one."

Bella laughed. "How can you say that? You don't even rank on the scale that would measure Romeo's idiocy."

He made a sound that was too bitter to be a laugh. "I really wish I could say so." He weighed the book in his hand. "This tragedy has too many parallels for me to be comfortable dismissing its lessons."

Bella watched all the levity leave his face, her own expression falling with it.

"I'm terrified, Bella, that I'll be like Romeo and tempt fate, and that you or the people you love will pay the price of my arrogance."

"And what is this arrogance?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Humour me."

He blew out a breath. "Thinking that I can cheat the Volturi of their rules, or Victoria of her vengeance. That I can offer you and your children a life worthy of what you deserve."

The latter items she had few qualms about. Certainly there were logistical difficulties, but they could surmount those. The Cullens had mastered the art of passing as a human family for decades, after all, and could assist with any subterfuge required. The Volturi and Victoria, though. Her heart stuttered. He was right. Those were concerns not easily dismissed. When she spoke, it was slowly. "There are no guarantees in life. I am willing to take the happiness we have now, knowing there is a small chance of disaster—and there is always a chance of disaster. Because if we were apart, there would be far greater chance of it." She paused for a bit, feeling herself falling into her old habit of chewing on her lip. She'd worked hard to avoid doing it, wanting to keep at least this small sign of her anxiety secret from the psychiatrists who continually prodded her with questions. "You were so worried before, so afraid, when we were younger, but now—"

"Like I said, I have more in common with Romeo than I care to. He was a fool, and I may be one myself. Only he had no idea how many people he'd drag to the grave with him."

"First of all, you are not a fool, and Romeo didn't have six incredibly wise and wily vampires on his side. I also don't think you believe in fate, Edward. You wouldn't be fighting so hard for us if you did. We are meant to be together because we love each other. We've proven that time and time again."

"That," he said, cupping her cheek with his hand, "I do not doubt."

"Well, good," she said, letting a small smile blossom. "But you do get your fair share of moodiness." She covered her eyes, giggling, when Edward sat up quickly and pretended to reach for the pillow. When no attack was forthcoming, she dared to uncover her eyes and peeked up to see him just grinning at her. She reached for his hand and he readily placed it in hers. "However, you are also incredibly romantic, and faithful, things you beat Romeo by in spades."

"Finally. Something good from that rotten play."

Bella scoffed at this opinion, but Edward didn't let her continue.

"I would also say that I worship at the shrine of you far better than Romeo ever did with Juliet." He leaned over and kissed her more passionately, fingers lacing into her hair.

It was the final match to the kindling of her desire.

She cleared her throat. "So, where would you go, pilgrim?" she asked.

"I would give you a holy kiss," he murmured, pressing closer and doing just that.

"And leave me with the sin of your lips?" she quipped, accepting and returning the gesture.

"Well then, give me my sin again," he breathed, one hand still in her hair, the other sliding down to her hip.

"Gladly," she murmured, digging her fingers into his pyjama waistband. "But maybe you can lock the door, first?" It was early, but not so early that she wanted to risk being interrupted.

"They're soundly asleep," he mumbled, but got up and was back to her in a moment, door firmly shut, the click of the lock an audible reassurance.

When she began to lift off her shirt, he stopped her with a quiet, "No, let me. Please." Then he smiled. "Such a shrine deserves a reverent litany."

He lifted the hem by degrees, fingers trailing over the silvery ripples in her flesh where stretch marks had receded, teasing at the soft indentation of her navel. All this was accompanied by continuous planting of soft kisses at her lips.

She shivered when he reached the underside of her breasts, her breathing shallow and rapid. Then he slipped the whole shirt over her head.

Bella held her breath, realizing she was waiting for his judgement.

But there was none.

Instead, Edward cradled the small swelling at her abdomen, feathering his fingers out over her ribs, then brushed his thumbs by her nipples. "And such a shrine, and I the lucky pilgrim," he whispered, almost to himself.

Her laughter was soft. "Does that mean there's an offering?"

"Oh yes," he murmured, lips trailing to her breasts. "My touch, my body, my worldly goods—everything over which I may exert some speck of control. This, and all my hopes, I offer you."

"Sounds good to me," Bella gasped, as his lips closed over her sensitive nipple.

There were fewer words then.

Bella's fingers were more frantic over Edward's clothes, lifting and yanking without ceremony.

"Oh God, I want you." She was having trouble getting enough air, his kisses and touch making her body ache with need—ache in ways it never had with her husband.

Edward didn't waste time with speech, letting one hand slide downwards, finding its sensitive mark below her navel.

Multiple muscles spasmed, Bella's vocal sounds guttural and wild. She wanted to touch him, to make him feel like he was making her feel, but she was afraid he'd pull away, so she let her hands try to knead the stony flesh at his hips.

"I want you," she managed to say again. "Please. Now."

Then there was a quiet voice at the door, as the handle rattled.

Both of them froze.

"Mommy," Meredith sniffled, voice muffled. "I peed my bed."

After a moment, Bella managed a strangled, "Okay, honey, just give me a sec." Then she closed her eyes with the quietest of moans.

Edward let out a long breath.

"You okay?" she asked, turning to look at him His gaze was focused on the ceiling but she could still see the dark hunger in his eyes and the tight clench of his jaw.

"Yes." he finally replied. It sounded slightly strained. "I'm sorry. I should've heard her coming."

Bella couldn't help but smile in sympathy, pulling her shirt back on. "Welcome to parenthood."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Want me to take care of her bedding?"

"Please. I'll clean up Mer."

When they came back together, it was downstairs in the kitchen. Edward had brought Joshua down and her son was babbling away in indecipherable syllables, approximating the intonation of multiple informative statements.

Edward was answering in complete sentences, understanding the thoughts that were behind Josh's utterances. How she envied him even in her gratitude.

"Omelette, anyone?" Edward asked.

"Yecch," Mer said, seconded by Joshua, who stuck out his tongue.

"Hmm," Edward tried again. "Let me guess. Waffles with strawberries?"

"Yes, please!" Mer said, with much more enthusiasm.

When all those interested in the consumption of human food had eaten, Edward leaned over to Bella, and whispered, "I don't think I've ever longed for their bedtime quite so much."

Bella laughed at his somewhat bewildered expression, folding over herself with her arms across her middle, unable to stop her uncontrollable giggles.

"What?" Edward asked.

"Oh," she tried, waving her hand back and forth in front of her face. "It's just—" she collapsed into a fit of hilarity again. "This is the epitome of parenthood. Your life, interrupted by the many—and often inconvenient needs of small people. I just never expected to see you as a parental figure, and now—"

He nuzzled at her neck. "And now?" he asked gently.

Her feelings settled as her eyes met his. "It's really beautiful."

On cue, Josh reappeared, asking hopefully, "Swimming?" After Edward had taken both children to the local pool one day after daycare, his status had been elevated to the near-deific.

Bella liked swimming as much as the next person, but managing an excited, overstimulated, or God forbid, unhappy Josh in a tiled changing room bordered on the audibly traumatic.

"I think we can do that." He looked at Bella for confirmation.

"Sure," she said, eyeing him thoughtfully as she pictured him in a swimsuit. And then with nothing on. Edward turned back to the kids, then, but not before she caught a brief, somewhat secretive smile on his face. She didn't have time to wonder about it.

They walked to the pool, Edward saddled with a backpack, and Josh riding on his shoulders. Despite the day's mild spring temperature, the sky was obscured by a thick blanket of wooly grey. The lack of rain left them free to enjoy the walk through the neighbourhood's lush greenery.

Bella had suggested the stroller, but Josh had put his foot down—literally—"No!" he'd said, emphasizing this with a derogatory, "Babies!" and folding his arms.

"Right," Bella had conceded.

Now she looked at Edward. "I can carry something, you know."

"I'm fine," Edward said, smiling at her briefly, then going back to lightly tickling Josh's feet, which were dangling over his shoulders.

"Edward," she tried again, grasping his arm as they ambled along. "I like doing things that are useful."

Edward paused, helping Josh down and onto one of the several swings that hung from the boulevard trees. He glanced at Bella, but mostly kept his eyes on Josh. He'd already learned the hard way that one's full attention—vampire or human—was required to keep Bella's youngest safe. "I'm listening," he said softly.

Bella considered how best to phrase this so that it was effective. "People will notice us—and you—more, if you do everything."

She watched his shoulders tense a little. "I would feel like a complete . . . cad, if I handed you the backpack."

Bella put a hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle her laugh. He was so cute sometimes. "A _cad_, huh?"

"Mm," he said, taking Josh's hand as he slipped off the swing.

"Run!" Josh announced, and then bolted, Edward taking off after him.

"Though you're welcome to keep all the running to yourself," Bella mumbled after him. She really didn't miss sprinting and rubbed her lower abdomen absent-mindedly. There'd been a few familiar twinges, which she knew would eventually blossom into the regular but manageable discomfort of round ligament pain.

Edward caught Josh easily, rewarding him with several squeal-filled throws into the air.

"Yeah, not attracting attention at all," Bella called.

"I see other dads do this all the time," Edward countered, as she approached them.

Her sharp inhale matched his as his choice of words just hung there in the air between them. Her eyes lifted to his face, his expression tight with uncertainty, and she smiled to soothe him. She was going to say she liked the sound of the word, 'Dad' from his lips, when Meredith piped up.

"You're not our Dad." Her little forehead was scrunched up, and if she hadn't been so serious, Bella would've smiled to see what Matt used to call 'Mommy's fierce face' on her daughter's features.

Edward beat Bella to answering. "You're right, I'm not, Mer," he said, crouching down in front of her with Josh still in his arms. "But I love your mother very much, and you and Joshua too."

Mer didn't seem sure how to answer this, and Bella didn't want to rob Edward of an opportunity to meet the high bar of Meredith's expectations. Her eldest had fallen head over heels in love with Alice, who had earned the occasional 'Aunt' stuck in front of her name. Edward, however, had been met with acceptance that bordered on the begrudging at times. Now was obviously one of those times.

"That still doesn't make you my Dad," she huffed, and then turned and began walking towards the pool, her arms firmly crossed. The loose straps on her back-pack—an "old" one of Alice's that still had tags on it the day it had materialized—flounced up and down, keeping time with her angry steps.

"Just give her a few minutes," Bella said, touching Edward's arm.

"I am," he said thoughtfully, gazing after Meredith and no doubt using his gift to assess her true thoughts on the matter. Bella took advantage of his distraction and opened the backpack before he threw back a hand to meet hers.

"Hold your horses there, Mr. Chivalry." she said, laughing.

"Do you _need_ something from the bag?" His teasing tone did not hide the warning underneath.

"Yes, something to carry," she answered, snatching two towels before he pulled away.

Edward crossed his arms and pretended to give her a dirty look.

"Oh, you save that for after bedtime," she said, winking and slinging the towels over her shoulder.

She didn't look back, his hissed-in breath confirmation of the effect she'd had on him. As she walked away, she bit her lip in anticipation, not surprised when his hands materialized at her hips and his lips at her ear.

"I'm counting the minutes," he whispered, and then took off after Josh again.

Meredith had recovered her good mood by the time they got to the community pools, and the four of them enjoyed a solid hour of playing in the shallower of the two. Bella and Edward had to constantly remind Josh to keep his voice down. Bella was feeling mildly apprehensive by the time they settled into the hot-tub, worried at the wear on their fellow pool-goers' good will.

She supposed she should have anticipated Edward's accusatory look when she slipped her whole self into the hot water. She watched his jaw twitch, as he obviously wrestled with the two sides of the line he straddled—doctor and fiancé.

It gave her a shiver of pleasure, each time she thought of that word.

Edward's next words indicated a clear medical landing. He gave the smallest shake of his head. "The heat isn't good for the baby."

Bella was opening her mouth to assure him she would keep her time in the hot water short when one of the other pool patrons spoke up.

"You're a lucky man." The elderly man's voice was coloured with a heavy Italian accent. He nodded towards Meredith and Josh. "So many children." Then he looked at Bella's midsection and smiled kindly.

"He's not my Dad," Meredith announced, pouting. And then, because her children never seemed to want to spare her any embarrassment, announced loudly, "They're not married."

It felt like everyone in the hot tub turned to stare at Bella, heat that didn't come from the water blossoming in her cheeks.

"No, we're not married yet, but we're engaged," Edward answered Meredith. "That means we're going to get married." He was studying her daughter's face intently. Bella wondered what he was hearing.

She held her breath.

"You are?" Mer asked.

Bella waited for the explosion. Of all the places, in public, with walls that would let the sound ricochet.

But none came. Instead, there was a smattering of applause around them, the word, 'Bravo' interspersed with other linguistic expressions seeming to indicate good will.

"Are you really, Mommy?" Meredith asked, sidling closer, all offense apparently forgotten.

"Yes, sweetie," she said, pausing to smile at the two elderly women who passed by up the tub stairs with soft pats on her shoulder and more words Bella didn't understand.

"Will you wear a wedding dress?" Meredith's eyes grew wide at the thought. "Like a princess?" She asked reverently.

Bella chuckled. Yes, that _would _draw Mer's attention. "We hadn't really gotten that far in planning," she admitted, catching Edward's eye. He looked slightly nervous.

"I'm good," she mouthed to him, and watched his face relax.

Meredith kept asking questions about what this engagement—and more importantly, what the wedding would mean, but Bella was watching the very quiet conversation unfolding between Josh and Edward. Edward was whispering to him, and while most of it was lost amid the noise of the pool, she caught the words, "Yes, this means I stay. Forever."

Forever. Not quite as she'd once imagined it, but she'd take every moment this life would let her have.

The walk home was quiet, the kids clearly exhausted from the day's activities and, in Meredith's case, the excitement of their unintentional announcement. Josh was asleep on Edward's shoulder most of the way to the house but he woke up once they got there. Bella was secretly relieved. She suspected there would be no arguing about going to bed on time tonight.

Bella didn't think she'd ever been so impatient for her children's bedtime. When it finally arrived, she was wound up with anticipation and nerves.

"Are they really asleep?" she asked, sitting on the couch, pretending to mark papers. She'd been staring at the same one for ten minutes, the awkward prose as incomprehensible as when she'd begun.

"Yes," he said, looking up from the book she was pretty sure he was also pretending to read.

She stared at the lined pages in front of her for a few more minutes, trying to remember how things should go from here to . . . where she wanted them to go. Everything between them had felt so natural in the morning, but tonight, it was like trying to resurrect a language she'd once spoken fluently, that now fell wooden and splintered from her lips.

Putting her papers aside, she reached out a hand, running her fingertip down the seam of Edward's shirt. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

Maybe not so long forgotten.

His book dropped to the floor, and she found herself being pulled towards him, the air from her last breath locked inside by the compression of their lips.

Between kisses, she gasped in another breath out of necessity, and then one more in pleasure when he transferred his mouth to her neck.

No, not forgotten.

And because the upstairs felt so far away, and far too close to her children, she found herself mumbling, "The guest room door locks," into his hair, pulling in breaths between words as his hands pressed against her lower back, and then slid down to cup the curves below it.

The scene shifted so abruptly, Bella's vision spun before she could locate herself in the house. They were in the guest room, and she guessed that the click she'd heard was the door locking. Reaching out a hand to the wall, she tried to steady herself physically, and then emotionally.

"Sorry," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Dizzy with happiness," she managed.

"Good," he said with a smile. He placed a soft kiss at her ear, then one just beneath it, repeating it again and again as he worked his way down her neck to her collarbone. She wasn't quite sure but she thought she heard a soft growl that could have been a purr. It didn't matter. She had already stopped caring about anything except what he was doing.

Her fingers seemed suddenly clumsy, fumbling for the hem of his shirt. He helped her slide it off, and she moaned a little at this revelation. He'd worn a rash guard while they swam, long board shorts obscuring any hope of a glimpse of what his clothes normally hid. There was nothing hiding him from her now.

His torso was smooth save for a few stray curls at his navel and the center of his chest. She swirled her fingers there, enjoying the sultry sounds this action pulled from him.

He was much more adept in undoing the buttons of her blouse, his lips murmuring endearments as he progressed.

But nerves were making their presence known now. She wanted him, and she wanted this, but she was so keenly aware that she'd only ever had this intimacy with Matt. The apprehension grew as Edward began slipping her capris down from her waist.

She put her hands over his and he stopped his actions immediately. He appeared to be searching her face for an answer to something. "Is this okay?" he breathed.

She let the space of a few steadying breaths pass by. "Yes," she decided. "I'm just . . . nervous."

"Me too." A shy grin snuck up his face. He reached up to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger.

She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you," she whispered, meaning it and meaning so much more than she felt the words could convey.

He reciprocated in action and word. "And I want to show you how much I do." He picked her up, settling her on the bed, nuzzling his face over her midsection as he joined her.

It wasn't Bella's favourite physical feature. Her stretch marks had faded, but they'd left a trail of silvery dashes and finely-wrinkled skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, continuing upward, his reverence attending first one, then the other lace-cupped breast.

Her body had always been sensitive, but between the anticipation and his stimulating temperature, she was panting.

His grinning face appeared above her. "I love that I can do this to you."

She was pretty sure he let her roll him over. "Just you wait, Mister," she said playfully.

The grin remained, but her bra disappeared, unhitched by chilly fingers and accompanied by her own giggles.

She returned the favour by pulling off his jeans with some effort, and then arched an eyebrow at his underwear. She felt far more nervous than she hoped she appeared. When Edward lifted his hips to help her slip his last piece of clothing away, Bella only glanced shyly, touching him even more tentatively.

He closed his eyes and groaned.

Her nerves dissipated a little, and her touch became bolder.

Then she was on her back again in a move that left her breathless, Edward seeking permission with his eyes, a finger hooked in her waistband.

The nerves came flooding back, but she nodded, wondering if this was the fulcrum on which she balanced, over which she would topple.

Before she became a mother, she'd been no stranger to pain, or the damage life could inflict on the body or mind. What her maternal transformation had taught her was how tenuous the link between the body and life was. Meredith had come into the world a too-dusky blue, and it had taken the better part of a horrifying minute, watching the pediatrician work on her before she could breathe. Bella's entire paradigm had shifted in that moment, its jarring clarity teaching her just how short the space between life and death could be, and how little it could take to make that mono-directional journey.

Recent circumstances had not altered that perspective.

Now she felt the thrill of being with Edward, as he pressed against her in a way that demonstrated his very clear enthusiasm for bodily intimacy. It both excited and frightened her. She was certain he wouldn't try this if he didn't think it was safe, but a more sinister worry lurked in her mind: what if it hurt the baby? She tried to dismiss the groundless fear. She knew that sex was safe during pregnancy.

She amended the thought: _Human_ sex was safe during pregnancy.

But was it with a vampire?

Don't be ridiculous, she tried telling herself.

But the ball of fear had lodged itself too deeply for her to move it so easily.

"Edward," she whispered, feeling gutless with shame, "Is this safe for the baby?"

She watched him blink twice as if he was doing it in slow motion.

"Yes, it is." His voice sounded strained.

Bella swallowed, counting several breaths.

"You're not ready for this," Edward said softly. There was no question in his tone. It was a gentle observation.

Her answer was a desperate grab at his shoulders. "Yes, I am."

He hesitated, watching her. "Okay, but you show me how and what you're ready for." He kissed her once more, teasing at her upper lip with his. Then he rolled them towards the wall, so that he was on his back, and she was straddling him.

As she continued the kisses he'd begun, she gasped as one of his hands found the particularly sensitive nub between her legs. The sensation was transportive, bits of twitching pleasure rippling over her body. Even her extremities ached sympathetically, the pregnancy heightening all sensation to a near-painful point.

She pushed back against his touch, moaning her own pleasure as she found and positioned herself over what she wanted inside her. Edward froze as she slid over him, his hands disappearing, the headboard creaking with strain.

He was definitely not Matt.

And definitely not human.

It was an abrupt and physical understanding, knowing why he'd been so afraid before, why he had always denied her—and himself. Beyond his strength was simply his nature—all the give was in her flesh, which was feeling very, very full.

She was on the precipice of doubt, when she opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of his face. His features were completely unguarded—cracked with joy, and a worried apprehension she knew too well.

Her heart hurt, seeing it. No. She wouldn't weight him with more worry. Her own fears disappeared. He needed her now, to help him walk over the threshold he faced.

"It's okay," she whispered, bending down and kissing him, starting to move gently over him. "I love you."

"It's so much more than okay," he whispered back, rolling them onto their sides, and then hovering over her again. "It's a miracle."

Very gently, he moved inside her, teasing where they were joined with his fingers. She opened her mouth, but could barely make a sound, her mind was so lost in the sensations rippling over her.

He kept moving, slowly and gently pushing past each new mark until she grimaced slightly at the pressure.

She expected him to stop, or panic, but he backed off a little, still moving, studying her face with his eyes and teasing her with his lips. Then he placed a cold kiss to her nipple and her body rocked with a release that made her feet arch reflexively, her entire body making the same shape against her lover.

As Bella floated down from her own crest of feeling, she was met with Edward's orgasm. His body became a rigid spasm, hard and bruising against her softer one. The gasp that escaped her was small, but his reaction great.

To his credit, he didn't jerk away or leap off the bed, but the disentanglement was much more rapid than she wanted it to be. He sat up carefully, eyes wide with apprehension. "Bella?" he choked out. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I don't think so," she said. His disappearance had startled her, and she sat up slowly.

"No, or you don't think so?" The edge in his voice bordered on the angry.

The light in the room was low, supplied by the streetlights outside and filtering in through cracks in the curtains. Suddenly uncertain, Bella's cheeks flamed, and she pulled the sheet up over herself, embarrassed by her very imperfect human shape.

"I'm sorry," Edward said, coming close again and wrapping his arms around her. "I didn't mean to snap at you. Are you alright?"

She kissed his chin, letting her brain have a moment to take an honest inventory of her body. "I don't have the right metaphor for what I am."

His chuckle was small and tentative. He brushed a finger down her cheek. "Have I profaned this holiest of shrines?"

Bella's laughter bubbled up from her belly. "No, good pilgrim, you have not, but you may smooth any offense away with a tender kiss."

He did, capturing one lip, and then the other, repeating this small gesture of repentance over and over again, until his grace was assured.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	33. Pregnant

A/N for 2019-08-24: Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for the incredible care she takes with every word, line, and character.

And many thanks to you all for leaving your thoughts on and reactions to this tale.

~ Erin

* * *

Bella was tempted to stay in the guest room bed with Edward. It would've been easy to succumb to the pull of sleep and push off the remainder of the day's tasks, but she knew she'd rue it come tomorrow—Monday morning.

"I need to get a few things done," she sighed into his chest.

"Do you _really_ need to?" Edward ruffled his nose through her hair, fingers tracing shapes on her body that made her want to purr with pleasure.

Oh, how easy it would be to stay beside him and trade unfinished chores for more of the pleasures they'd already enjoyed. She knew he would offer no resistance to the idea of her giving up all domestic labour, her job, or anything else that required any effort at all on her part.

"Yes, I really do," she said, moving to slide a leg off the bed. She was prevented, his foot hooking around her ankle.

"I can go be useful, if you'd like," he murmured into her ear before placing a kiss there.

She chuckled. "I don't think you can pee for me."

His foot moved, and she was released.

When she finished with the toilet, she fished around in one of the lower cabinets, finding what she needed and taking it to the kitchen. After packing her work bag, and making sure the kids' backpacks were ready to go, she assembled the last few things she needed. Edward walked in just as she was putting the clear plastic bag into the freezer.

She hadn't exactly been hiding what she was doing, but she realized that she hadn't really wanted him to see what she was doing either.

"It's early, isn't it, for those?" he asked, coming up beside her, a hand soft over her hip.

She smiled a little, and blushed too. It was difficult sometimes, reconciling the Edward of now with the Edward she'd known ten years before. Matt hadn't batted an eye at witchhazel-soaked sanitary pads in the freezer. Apparently, neither would Edward. She reminded herself that he would've completed a maternity ward rotation as part of his residency.

The blush faded quickly. "Actually no, I should've made them earlier."

His forehead wrinkled into an expression of concern.. "I hurt you." It was an accusation.

"No," she said, trying to think how to explain this in a way that would let him understand—and more importantly, not freak out.

Edward glanced pointedly at the freezer. "If you need to ice—"

"I always need to ice after sex when I'm pregnant, Edward," she rushed out. "It's normal for me." It was one of the effects of pregnancy that she'd learned to accept, one she had often wished Matt—and here she squirmed guiltily for the uncharitable thought—had been more sensitive to. Sex had been a pleasure they'd mutually enjoyed outside of pregnancy, but her husband had been a little tone-deaf to the increased discomfort that came with it and her changing body, or to her reluctant participation in latter trimesters. He'd always made her feel wanted that way, but sometimes she'd longed not to be quite so desired, at least not physically.

"That is not norm—"

"It's normal for me." The repetition was stern. The conversation was pulling up so many mixed feelings that she couldn't put a finger on them all: an unexpected resentment of Matt, and now a wordless anxiety with regard to Edward.

Focusing her eyes on him, she watched a storm of emotion brewing on his face. Trying to to interpret his reaction in his features, a mounting sense of misgiving and apprehension built in her own chest. If he thought he'd hurt her—

"Please don't leave because of this." The words bubbled out of her before she could stop them.

She lowered her gaze to the countertop, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Edward's arms folding themselves around her was a surprising comfort, as were his words.

"If I live another ten thousand years, I will never forgive myself for what my leaving did to you. And I will keep saying this as long as you need me to: I'm so sorry for leaving. I'm not leaving. I don't want to leave, and I don't think I even could. I want to be with you, Bella, in whatever way you'll have me."

The tears that sprung up tightened her throat as she wrapped her arms around him. "I love you so much, but I need you to stop freaking out every time I feel so much as uncomfortable."

"If it needs an ice pack, it's well beyond uncomfortable," he muttered into her hair.

The pendulum of emotions was running its full swing, and she half-laughed, half-cried into his shirt. She wondered what Edward would say if she told him that it hadn't bothered Matt. She decided against such a disclosure, hiding her unease in humour. "Oh, hello, Dr. Cullen, I didn't realize you would be making a housecall today."

"You shouldn't be hurting," he said, pulling back, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. Trust him to avoid her attempts to redirect him.

Bella closed her eyes, giving herself a moment to think. "Can we just chalk this up to 'not-covered-in-medical-school' and leave it at that?"

"How about we do that, and you talk to your midwife about it?" he countered.

She cocked her head, her tone nudging towards sarcasm. "You want to be there for that conversation?"

"Of course I do."

She'd expected a no, or at best, a reluctant, 'only if you want me to.'

Edward's finger brushed over her cheek. "If you're comfortable with my presence for that."

"Sometimes I think you really can read my thoughts."

She was rewarded with his beautiful grin. "I wish I could sometimes," he said. He tapped her nose, playfully. "Then again, sometimes your face says it all."

"And on that note," she sighed, "I'm going to bed." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly. He returned the gesture just as gently. Eyes closed, she leaned against him, relishing his very tangible love for her.

"You coming up?" she asked.

"Of course, but in a bit. I promised two children some fancy sandwiches for lunch."

Her smile blossomed. Making lunches was one of the first things Edward had taken on when they'd come back together. She didn't miss that chore at all. Nor did she think she could take it back, now that lunch meant things cut and arranged artfully into creatures real or imagined, castles, cars, princess dresses, or any other whim of the moment—some of which hadn't even been voiced out loud.

"You just might be spoiling them," she said as she walked away.

"It's in my job description," he called after her. "Wouldn't want to get fired."

_Fat chance_, Bella thought to herself, still smiling.

\- 0 -

There were a few minutes left before second period began. Unexpectedly hungry, Bella had already eaten her apple during her first class, then powered through the last of the emergency almonds she kept stashed in her desk. Instead of attempting the long, crowded trek to the cafeteria, she had opted to buy a bag of chips from the nearby vending machine. It was the healthiest of the dubious options available. She'd nibbled through half of them, vaguely hoping they didn't trigger any heartburn. This in mind, she had just stood to stretch out her body, lifting her arms high over her head, when one of her junior students, Chelsea, walked into the room early.

"Geez Ms. H, you're gonna keep getting fatter if you eat like that."

She wasn't surprised by the bluntness of Chelsea's remark, but she did struggle to hide her smirk, and ducked her head so that her hair hid most of her face. Unlike her peers, Chelsea could produce a whip-smart literary analysis on sight, but her brain-to-mouth filter had bowling ball-sized holes in it.

Oblivious to Bella's reaction and clearly concerned for either her teacher's health or her reputation, Chelsea continued. "People are gonna think you're pregnant or something."

"That's because I _am_ pregnant, Chelsea," Bella said, sitting back down and taking another chip from the bag, fully in control of her features once again.

"Oh," Chelsea said, frowning. She looked at her desk as she spoke. "I think I'm supposed to say congratulations. Right?" Her hands gripped her binder nervously, like she really wasn't sure.

"Yes, and thank you," Bella said gently, beginning to wonder if there was something more to Chelsea's awkwardness than her age.

Then Chelsea launched into a series of detailed questions, many of which Bella deflected, some which she answered. A few required that she remind Chelsea that she was her teacher, and that it wasn't really appropriate to talk to a student about such personal things.

Chelsea "Humphed," at this last reminder, but settled back into her seat as Bella began writing up the agenda for the period on the board.

When the rest of the students had trickled in, Chelsea announced, loudly, to the room, "Hey, Ms. H is pregnant! Tell her congratulations."

The chalk snapped in half in her hand. Still facing the chalkboard, Bella gave a small prayer of thanks that she wasn't making eye contact with anyone, and kept writing. Up until now, she hadn't had such a prolonged interaction with Chelsea, who only really spoke up during formal discussion times in class. Was the girl just at an awkward age? Lacking a good role model? Or was it something . . . else? Several speculative diagnoses for Chelsea fluttered through her mind.

Lost between the babble of excited squeals in the room and her own thoughts, Bella almost didn't hear the person loudly clearing their throat at the door.

When she turned around, her expression molded back into teacherly neutrality, the chalk in her palm made a bone-like crack as it hit the floor.

There was a police officer standing in her doorway.

She reached back for the lip of the board, her breathing suddenly too quick, terrified of the bad news this man must surely be bringing.

He rapped on the door frame, signalling his request to enter. It was a gesture she'd seen used hundreds of times by other teachers and staff—that polite deference to a colleague's authority.

"Hi, Ms. Hamilton?" he asked.

Bella could only nod, all her words having been swallowed by the fear brewing in her gut. Visions of her children, broken and mangled, or of Charlie dead from some duty gone wrong filled her thoughts. The more recent memory of the officers in her living room, and their life-changing news about Matt returned too.

"I'm Constable Dhaliwal, the school's liaison officer. Can I borrow Perry for a bit?" he asked. It was hard to hear him over the now-pointed babble in the room.

"What?" she managed.

He stepped into the classroom, moving towards her. "Perry—can I borrow him?" He tilted his head towards the back of the room, where one Perry Sandhu slouched, trying to look invisible.

Her sense of relief was so profound, that she actually slumped back against the board.

"You okay?" the constable asked, louder than she would've liked.

"She's pregnant!" Chelsea supplied.

"Thank you, Chelsea," Bella said, mortified by the blush that flooded her cheeks.

The officer smirked a little. "Congrats." Then he lifted an eyebrow and eyed Chelsea, who picked up her book and buried her nose in it.

Bella tried to smile in thanks, but it was an awkward production, hampered by the tension in her jaw.

"So, Perry?" The officer asked again, looking towards the back of the room.

"Sure," Bella said. She wondered what Perry had done to warrant a visit from the school's police liaison officer, but mostly she was just glad that the students were looking at the constable and Perry, instead of her. As the man and boy left, she let a long breath out, and announced, "I think we'll start with silent reading today."

By the time the lunch bell was set to ring, Bella felt like she'd reassembled a smidgen of her dignity and some of her composure. She was trying to act as though she wasn't hoarding these precious commodities, when another body silhouetted itself in the doorway.

The drifting gazes of the students caught her attention before Edward did.

She could understand why they were staring. The last few phrases of her planned instructions disappeared momentarily, replaced by a garbled near-silence. She managed a quick, "The pages are on the board," before the bell sent the class flooding out of the room.

"Good Morning," Edward said, moving towards her and taking her hand.

"Morning yourself," she murmured, taking in his appearance. He'd dressed casually in chinos and a navy blue button down shirt. They did nothing to diminish his beauty or the spine-tingling effect he had on her or anyone else. He looked good enough to—

"Is he the guy who got you pregnant?" Chelsea piped up, standing in the doorway Edward had just vacated.

Bella closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself a moment to compose a reply that wouldn't get herself fired.

"Have a nice lunch, Chelsea," she said.

Chelsea remained, staring at them. Or just at Edward, Bella realized.

Curious, she followed Chelsea's gaze in time to see Edward turn to the girl and smile, baring his teeth the tiniest bit. It was effective. With a sharp intake of air, Chelsea scurried away.

"Really?" Bella asked him, as she listened to the retreating footsteps.

"Really," Edward murmured, kissing her. "Her thoughts were most inappropriate."

It was hard to collect her own thoughts after that, but she managed to scoop up some of the salient ones. "No scaring my students."

"Yes, Ms. Hamilton," he said demurely, affecting the tone of a chastised pupil. He nuzzled her ear in a manner that was completely unrepentant.

She had to stifle a thoroughly un-teacher-like response. God, was there anything the man couldn't make alluring?

"Lunch?" he suggested, nodding toward the clock on the wall.

They didn't have much time. She considered other ways they could spend their time. Not eating. Edward waited for her response, again with that secretive smile she saw occasionally. Finally, he seemed to take pity on her while she struggled with her obvious indecision.

"But perhaps you want to introduce me to your friend?" he asked, looking across the hall, still toying with her fingers.

She'd mentioned having him meet Grant, and now she sighed. "He's away today. Next time."

"I can come every day, if you want." Edward said, sounding much too eager about this idea.

"Ha! I'd get nothing done at work. And as much as I enjoy spending my days being all doe-eyed over you, I do have a job to do." She went to her desk, pulling out her purse. "But we should go. I'm actually hungry today."

When they walked into the parking lot, Edward tugged her towards an unfamiliar car. It was a sleek silver sedan whose very shape spoke of a quality and price that Bella imagined would make her cringe, if quantified.

"Is this new?" she asked.

"No," he said. "And I thought it would attract unwanted attention if I materialized without a vehicle."

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Only you would think a car like this would not attract attention."

"It's just a car," he said matter-of-factly.

Bella eyed the unfamiliar logo. "Just a car," she muttered, sliding in once he'd opened the passenger side door. Glancing back, she noted two car seats. They smelled new. The brand was one that she had only read about in baby magazines on the table at the pediatrician's office—usually in ads featuring Hollywood moms.

"It's also _our_ car," he said, catching her look.

"Uh—"

"Engaged, remember?" He brushed his hand over hers, before moving it back to the gear shift and reversing out of the parking stall.

Bella closed her mouth. They hadn't spent much time talking about what the practical implications of their engagement or their marriage would be.

Edward had, however, slid the car repair bill across the table at breakfast the previous day, pointing to where he'd written "paid" in his neat script. She'd blushed in chagrin, but when he'd lifted an eyebrow, she found herself nodding in resignation, unable to begrudge him. Any further conversation had been forestalled by a series of shrieking squawks from Josh, who had picked a fight with Meredith in the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked now, interrupting her memory.

She smiled at him. "I love you. I'm just getting used to the idea of keeping you—and what that means." This was the truth, but she also still felt the bite of the stubborn worry that something might happen to separate them again.

He's not leaving again, she told herself. Not leaving.

"What is it?" he asked. His touch came and went between shifting gears, and then returned fully as he pulled over to park a few blocks way.

"Old ghosts," she said with a small smile, shaking her head. "They're hard to lose."

"Hmm," he said, watching her. She suspected he knew what was occupying her thoughts.

"Is here alright?" he lifted his chin towards the restaurant they had pulled up to. It was the mac and cheese shop Grant had taken her to in her first weeks at the school.

"Yes," she said, letting her smile have full play over her face. Her worry receded. She knew its absence might be temporary, but she determined that she would enjoy the respite for as long as she had it.

"So, are all your students as interesting as Chelsea?" Edward asked, once they'd settled at one of the small tables. He was wearing her favorite crooked smile—the one that could charm the pants off of . . . well, her, definitely.

"Thank goodness, no." She shook her head, trying to imagine what an entire class of Chelseas would look like.

"I'm not being disingenuous. She _is_ interesting—or, at least her mind is. She actually reminded me a little of your mother."

"Really?" Bella asked, frowning, trying to connect the two.

"Mm-hm, just like Josh reminds me a little of your mother."

Bella blinked, linking these concepts, tilting her head. "You think that's where the Autism comes from? That it's genetic?"

"There's no doubt that it's genetic. Where it comes from—" He shrugged one shoulder. "It's hard to say. I didn't meet Matt or his family."

"Neither did I. He didn't have any to meet." She shifted in her seat. This felt like dangerous territory for a workday lunch. Her hormones were such a stew, she knew she could cry at the slightest provocation. Talking about Matt with Edward could be more than a slight provocation.

He'd already taken one of her hands in his. She recognized the love in the gesture when he took the other one too, a small, rueful smile on his face.

"I haven't told you much about him," she said softly.

"No, and you don't have to, if you don't want to."

"I know, but I think I should. His parents died in a car crash when he was pretty young. He was an only child." She paused, watching him. The horrific similarity to Matt's own ending was not lost on either of them.

Edward only nodded, encouraging her to continue. "His Aunt took him in for a time, but it was pretty short. She died of cancer, and then there was no other family, so he went into the foster system. It wasn't good. He was bounced around a lot, and he learned that there are some really crappy people in the world. He made a conscious choice not to be like them, and to make something of himself. So he did. He got to university on a sports scholarship."

"Football," Edward supplied.

"Yep." She wondered just how much Edward knew.

"How did you meet?" Edward asked.

Bella laughed. "My roommate set up a date for us."

"Hmm," Edward said.

"Hmm, what?" she asked.

"I wish I'd taken you out on more dates when you were younger."

"We had lots of dates then." They had. It had also been one of the most joyful yet emotionally-fraught parts of her life. She really didn't miss being her younger self.

"Hardly," Edward said, shaking his head. "You had some very rigid ideas about what I could and could not do for you. I seem to remember there being a rule about me spending no money on you. At all."

"I did make that rule," Bella admitted, feeling slightly uneasy now. She had an idea of where this conversation was going. She pushed the discomfort into an equally truthful observation. "I seem to remember someone else having their rigid ideas about other things, too."

Edward dipped his head in acknowledgment, but otherwise ignored her attempt to redirect the conversation. "If we're getting married, you know that means we're a joint financial entity." He spoke softly.

Yep. She'd been right. _Joint financial entity. _It sounded so . . . businesslike.

She sighed.

"But perhaps your views on that haven't changed since then?"

"I'm working on it," she said. It was true. But finding a way to look at their situation where there was any equity in this relational exchange . . . She sighed again. She knew she brought a great deal of need to the marriage.

Edward interrupted her unintended and negative spiral. "I never imagined being able to be a parent, Bella."

She glanced up at him, not realizing her gaze had slid downwards again. "I know. It's a lot to take on—"

"It's a gift I never ever dreamed of. I had no reason to think it would be possible."

A gift. She gave her head a shake. Yes, parenthood was a gift. Her children were what she treasured most, but it was so easy to be swallowed up by the world's very different narrative.

"I love you," Edward continued, his voice gentle. "Getting to be with you is already an indescribable happiness. Being able to be part of your family is even more so."

She believed him. The world hadn't taught her to expect his perspective, but she was beginning to sense by absence of boundary, the depths of his love. Her youth, and probably her human nature as well, had prevented her before from having even an inkling of the scale on which his commitment to her lived. Becoming a mother had dramatically changed her understanding of the nature of love. Only now could she perceive how infinite and all-encompassing it could be—that just when she reached what she thought were her emotional limits, she found herself pushing past them, stretched into new territory by each day's challenges and opportunities.

To love was a choice, and he was choosing her and her children. She'd already chosen for them, and for herself, and she knew now she would make that same choice over and over again if presented with the option.

Returning her thoughts to the present conversation, she hoped her tone made it clear she was was not dismissing Edward's preferences. "Matt and I talked about all our purchases," she said. "I'd like it if we did too."

"_All_ your purchases? Even gifts?" He arched an eyebrow.

Trust him to push on this. "We did, actually. At least, we talked about rough estimations for cost. There are very few surprises in a marriage, Edward."

"I can live with few surprises, as long as there are _some_ allowed." His grin was wide. If it were in his nature, she could have almost pictured him rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

So mature, and yet so boyish too.

He nodded towards her lunch. "Are you hungry?"

"I am. You're just distracting." She smiled as the conversation wound around easier and more mundane subjects, Edward clearly taking the lead in order to give her time to eat.

He had her back to school with five minutes to spare. Her senior classes were in the afternoon, and if past behaviour was any indicator, she expected to see a small group of eager students waiting to come in early.

They held hands as they walked slowly back from the car.

"Wait," Edward said with a smile, before they came to the corner.

"Why?"

"So I can kiss you properly. Unless you want an audience?"

Her chuckle was swallowed by his lips, and she sighed into the touch, his hands feathering over her cheeks. She was laughing by the time it finished. "Oh my God, how am I going to focus this afternoon?"

"Not well, if I did that correctly.," he said in a deadpan voice, still holding her hand as they came around the corner to the courtyard.

As expected, a few pupils slouched by the door, eyes widening when they caught sight of Edward. They exchanged furtive whispers with their neighbours.

"Nice work," Bella said. "The rumour mill will be running full-tilt about us by the afternoon."

He actually laughed out loud. "Oh, the rumour mill never really stopped on us," he said, tapping his temple.

"Well, you may as well walk me to the door and let them get a good look at you," she murmured, leading him in that direction.

Edward smiled and kept pace with her. "I'll take any excuse to have more time with you before these lucky people steal you away for the next few hours."

Bella had just unlocked the classroom door, when Edward's hand was at her waist. "You look really pale," he said too loudly. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Bella looked back at him quizzically. "I'm—"

"Not well at all. You should take the afternoon off." His voice was insistent and much louder than usual. It was as if he wasn't speaking to her alone.

Then understanding clicked. "You're right," she said, clearing her throat. "I'm not. I'll just get my things—"

"I'll get them," Edward said, pulling on her arm, and keeping her from going further into the room. "You should sit down. What do you need?" He was already at her desk at the front.

Bella closed the door and faced him, but she stayed where she was. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, face somber, nostrils flaring. She had seen the expression before but couldn't quite place it in the urgency of the moment. "What do you need from your desk?"

She frowned. "The two red and blue folders and my work bag. I'll need to leave instructions for the substitute—"

"No. I'll call from the car." His voice was sharp. It frightened her.

She could've sworn she saw him slip a bright and colourful piece of paper from her desktop but his hands had moved so quickly that they were a blur.

He was back then, and pulling her with him out the door.

"Follow my lead," he instructed, putting his arm around her. Then he raised his voice to address the teenagers around them. "Ms. Hamilton's not feeling well. I'm taking her to see her midwife." His voice carried just the right amount of worry, coloured with a tinge of panic. No one would question a pregnant woman feeling ill.

She couldn't make out the content of the hurried whispers, but she knew the students had been convinced by Edward's performance, if not her own.

He walked at a slow pace until they were out of sight, and then hurried her to the car. She pressed a hand to her lower abdomen, feeling the painful twinge of ligaments as she moved a little too quickly. When Edward didn't even seem to notice her discomfort, she became truly worried.

"What's going on?" she asked, putting on her seatbelt.

He only shook his head, reversing and moving out of the lot at a criminal speed. When they were on a side street he pulled out his phone and dialed the school office, speaking quietly in his physician's tone, lying so effectively it took Bella's breath away. Then he made another call but she knew right away that it was to one of the Cullens. His words were barely a hum to her ears.

"Edward, what's going on?" she asked again, when he had ended the call. She was out of patience and even more alarmed.

His expression showed frustration but she knew instinctively it wasn't directed at her. "I'm not exactly sure, but I won't experiment with your safety."

"Edward," she growled. "I am not a piece of luggage to be collected and stowed. What the hell is going on?"

He put his hand on hers, turning his gaze to her as well. His inattention to the road unnerved her as always, despite his continued perfect driving. "Please let me make sure you and the children are safe. Then I'll explain." His look was pleading.

"Okay." She couldn't really argue with safety.

Much as she wanted to.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infrignment intended.


	34. The Intimacy of Grief

A/N for 2019-09-01: The summer has vanished, and I find myself staring down the beginning of the school year. Gulp! While I plan on sticking to my weekly posting schedule, don't be too surprised if chapters don't appear like clockwork. My beta, Eeyorefan12, and I are keen to give you a high-quality story, rather than a story on schedule.

~ Erin

* * *

"Are they alright?" Bella asked, as she and Edward pulled up to the Cullen house. He parked in the garage and she heard the door closing behind them.

Then he paused, listening for the children through the garage's silence. "They're fine. They're quite happy to be here."

"Good," Bella said. "Now tell me what's going on."

Edward nodded, but didn't say anything right away. Instead, he stared straight ahead through the windshield, his jaw tight and his fingers still clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

"What did you take off my desk?" Bella asked.

"Your folders," Edward said. He still didn't look at her.

His response was too smooth, too simple. He was lying. It was a lie by omission, but still a deliberate obscuring of the truth.

If she wasn't worried about hurting her newly-healed hand, she'd have smacked it against the dashboard out of frustration. Still, instinct told her that Edward was wound as tightly as she was right now and to take that into consideration. "You promised you would never keep things from me again—that you'll tell me whatever I ask." she reminded him as calmly as she could. "What did you take from my desk?"

He closed his eyes and then opened them, reaching around and bringing her work bag to the front seat. "I'm sorry, Bella," he whispered. Then he handed her a neat stack of three photographic enlargements. They were glossy, and the garage's reflected light obscured the images until they were directly in front of Bella.

The top-most one was of Matt. It was the same picture she'd used for the funeral cards, only this print had a number one scrawled over the corner in bold black marker. Bella swallowed, feeling a twist in her gut and a lump in her throat. She brushed a finger over Matt's face. She set the flare of grief and the picture aside. The next one required some puzzling before she could make sense of the dark shapes. It was her cat, Bubbles—only the slack pose and open eyes told her it had been taken after the cat's death. A number two was written in the same corner in the same messy scrawl.

"Were they in this order when you found them?" she breathed, not looking away from the photo in her hand.

"No," Edward said shortly.

Her hands trembled as she tried to make herself move to the next picture.

"Is it someone I love?" she managed.

She heard Edward swallow before he answered. "I don't think so, no."

Her fingers obeyed her command to move, and she briefly focused her eyes on the new image before her. Then she frantically scrambled out of the car just before she was sick on the garage floor. As she straightened up, she realized the third photo was still in her hand. The other two had already fallen to the floor.

"No," she said, when Edward's hands reached for her. "Just let me look. I need to see."

"No, you don't—"

"I need to see," she said , and looked again at the startling image which had sickened her.

It was Grant. Only it wasn't. The violently garnet eyes and perfectly pale skin left no question as to what he was now. His lips were curled back in a snarl as he stared at whoever was taking the photo.

The writing was clearer on this one: _three of . . . ?_ was printed boldly over the bottom. Flipping it over, she read on. _You can end this anytime, Bella._ And underneath, in smaller letters: _And I can't wait to meet your baby. - V._

She dropped it, watching the printed image sail its uncertain way to the floor to join the others. Her hand remained open, and she stared at the garage's polished concrete, trying to swallow away the taste of fear and vomit.

"You're safe here," Edward said. She was pretty sure he'd said other things too, but her ears seemed to be ringing too loudly to hear them.

She was safe. For now. Her children too. But everyone else? No guarantees.

It took effort to force her lips into a flicker of a wry smile. "I know."

Who else? She wondered. Who would be next? And how many? Grant wasn't even truly part of her life. Edward had tried to see to that, had tried to protect him. At least, she told herself, Edward wasn't telling her right now that it wouldn't happen again. Because it probably would.

Other people would die in her place.

She shuddered.

"Come inside," Edward murmured, a hand at her back.

She snapped back to her practical self, needing something to do, something to center herself. "Are there any paper towels?" She eyed the congealing puddle she'd left on the floor.

Edward shook his head. "Someone else will get it."

She snorted. "No, thanks. I've cleaned up enough of other people's vomit as a parent. I don't need to leave it for anyone else to do. That's obnoxious."

Edward's hand squeezed hers, almost to the point of pain. "Bella, it's fine. Come inside. You don't look well right now."

She was sure she didn't. Pulling away from his touch, she moved to the cupboards that ran the length of one wall, opening and closing them, looking for something to clean with.

Impatient, Edward went to one of the cabinets in the corner, pulled out a roll of paper towels, and then cleaned up the mess before she could open her mouth to object. "Can we go inside now?" he asked. She was sure he was masking a lot more than exasperation, but he hid it well, not that she would have cared.

She noticed the pictures had also disappeared from the floor and nodded her defeat.

"Where are my kids?" she asked.

"They're downstairs. Rose and Alice just put on a movie for them.."

A better mother would object to television in the middle of the day, she thought. Of course, a better mother would probably not be responsible for getting her friend and colleague . . . . the word 'killed' tripped off her mental tongue. But it wasn't death, was it? It was just a near-approximation.

The realization was fresh again. Oh God, Grant. Another surge of nausea rippled through her midsection, and she ducked into the main floor bathroom as soon as they entered the house. Her stomach behaved, but barely. Bella waited, simply breathing. Finally, she splashed water over her face and rinsed out her mouth. When she looked in the mirror, the woman staring back looked haggard, her pale blouse splattered with the colourful confetti of her rejected lunch.

Just like the nausea, Bella knew grief came in a series of waves—and she was about done with the ocean of it which she had already traversed.

An unwanted sob lurched out of her throat. Out of frustration, she finally let herself smack her fisted right hand into the sink's edge.

"Don't," Edward said softly, appearing beside her. He curled his hand under hers, obviously trying to cool it with his own temperature. "Come on." He nudged her towards the stairs.

When they reached his room, he closed the door behind them. "What do you need right now?"

She couldn't even begin to consider the question. The answers were just too unattainable at the moment. She wanted to see her children but was worried that she would frighten them in her current state. She shook her head.

Edward's face bore all the usual marks of his worry but his voice was insistent and firm. "Right now, what do you need?"

She glanced down at herself "I'll take not being covered in vomit."

"Alright," Edward said, lifting his chin towards the dresser. "There are clothes for you in the second drawer. The bathroom's behind you."

"Okay." She shrugged off her sweater, and began working at the buttons on her blouse. Her fingers shook, and she struggled to undo even the topmost one. She persisted, grimacing in frustration as the fine fabric kept slipping out of her trembling grip.

"Here," Edward said softly, replacing her clumsy fingers with his deft ones.

His touch was pragmatic. She shed her blouse as soon as she could, not even thinking about any other implication of this movement. As she slipped her camisole over her head, Edward's face came into view.

They'd been intimate, but they'd not yet shared the intimacy of grief.

As she studied his expression, she saw it slowly dissolve into what was surely a reflection of her own sense of devastation and sorrow.

"It's okay," he whispered, pulling her into a hug. "It'll be okay. We'll keep you all safe and figure this out."

She wanted to take his comfort, but it was so empty there was nothing to grasp. "It's not okay, Edward. There is nothing that makes this in any way alright. He's one of y—he's that way because of me, because he was just trying to be my friend."

Edward's head slowly turned back and forth, like he was trying to repel the ugly truth. "She's trying to hurt you, because she couldn't get to me."

"I know." She kept her face buried in his chest. "But I also know that I could keep her from destroying the people I care about."

"By letting her destroy the people I care about?" Edward shook his head again more forcefully, pulling back to look at her. His, "No," was loud and firm. "No." He said again, gripping her shoulders so that she had to look at him. "I won't let you do it, so dismiss the idea now."

She considered his expression and his tone. Neither were arrogant, but they were cold. They were the words of a man who had the capacity to make them real, whether she wanted him to or not.

There was a challenging edge to his voice when he spoke next. "How would you feel if I offered myself up to her?"

Her jaw almost dropped, "I wouldn't—"

"Let me. I know. And I know because I remember exactly what it felt like when you disappeared on Alice and Jasper in Phoenix—God, Bella. I nearly—" He shook his head.

"You nearly what?"

"When I thought you might not make it, I had to have a plan—an escape, if you weren't here—"

"You were going to _kill_ yourself?"

His laugh sounded so dark and twisted it was almost a sob. "No. Though when I didn't know what had happened to you, I'd wished it could be so simple. There's no suicide for our kind. Carlisle's experiences assured me of that. No. I was going to go to the Volturi and do something to offend them."

She stared at him, a leaden weight making her innards sink. "If something happens to me, you can't—you can't do that, Edward. Josh and Mer—"

"I wouldn't," he said quickly. "I might act like the corpse I truly am for a time, but I wouldn't be so selfish." His hand grazed her stomach as it curled around to her back. "No," he said. "I love you all too much for that."

She was aware of her chest rising and falling, air coming in, and air leaving. She let herself be that for the moment—a tenuous holder of air.

Edward's next words were softer. "We will find her and end this. Remember that. You get to have happiness, Bella. You deserve it."

She knew better than to think anyone was owed a debt of happiness, but if they could somehow find and destroy Victoria, the ability to simply live without a cloud of doom hanging over their heads would be a miracle.

In the interim, she would tuck away Victoria's ugly bargain, and hope she'd never need to enter into it. And that Edward could forgive her if she did.

"Okay," she breathed.

Edward's hands had been traversing her back as they spoke. His fingers made those same trails now, up and down her spine, then swirling over her shoulder blades.

"You're cold," Edward murmured, moving as if to pull away.

"Yup. I'm down with that," she said, fisting his shirt, keeping him close.

"Are you going to take a shower?"

"Mm-hmm."

She kept his shirt in her grip as he put his arm around her and walked with her to the bathroom. There he turned on the shower one-handed.

"Stay with me?" She asked.

He nodded, unbuttoning and removing his shirt, then the rest of his clothes.

Bella shimmied out of her skirt and underwear, stepping into the shower and pulling Edward with her. After quickly rinsing herself off, she turned her back to the spray, and let herself sink into the chill of his chest, the heat of the water sluicing down her spine. She felt Edward reach for a bottle of shampoo and then his hands gently but efficiently stroking through her hair while she closed her eyes and gave herself up to his ministrations.

Her body calmed itself, but her thoughts remained wildly morbid.

Would your blood feel warm, leaving your body? She wondered. Would a vampire leave any to even trickle, or would it all be gone? She'd never asked. Edward had told her from the beginning that he had killed people. She could ask him right now, couldn't she?

Her gorge rose. Blood was always a dangerous thing to think about. Even the idea could trigger the nausea.

So she wondered how much Grant had suffered before the torture of his change. If he was suffering now. Edward had already described the agony of the first year after the transformation, back when his only goal was convincing her not to do it.

She felt sick to her stomach, but at least she didn't want to throw up again.

She made herself consider what Victoria might do with her. The speculation was an inoculation against fear. It might not be the worst possibility, to die at her hands. It was a better one than watching her children be taken—

"What are you thinking?" Edward's voice was a breath in her ear.

Shaking her head, she said, "Not thinking, really. I'm more just . . . letting thoughts pass by. Trying not to notice them too much."

He didn't challenge her lie—for surely he could feel that it was one—but instead , tightened his embrace a little more.

This might be it. The now. There might not be a future for them. This too was something she needed to recognize.

Her children needed to be safe, and not just physically. If Victoria was successful, Bella needed to know that Mer and Josh would have a home and family beyond Charlie. People who understood and could protect against the dangers to which most humans were oblivious.

"Edward," she started.

"Yes?"

"If something happens, I want Josh and Mer to be with you."

He pulled away, eyebrows pinching together in a V, "Nothing is going to happen."

"I need to know they'll be with you," she said, pleadingly.

"Nothing—"

"Things happen," she said. "Even when we don't want them to." She looked in the direction of the garage and then back at him. "I don't know what needs to be done legally, but I want you to be their father in every sense. I know my Dad wouldn't like it, but I want to make sure it can't be contested."

Edward watched her for a long moment, "We can do that."

Bella exhaled in relief. "Good." Then she shuddered, either from the cold, or the cold possibilities the future might represent. Edward drew her further under the warm spray of the shower but didn't pull away as she would have expected him to.

The water ran over them for a few more quiet moments. Her face was still pressed against his chest, so when he spoke it was a rumble in her ear. "Bella?"

"Mm?"

"If something did happen—and this is a big 'if'—would you want me to . . .would you let me change you?"

Already still against him, now she was frozen. Her stomach sickened again, thinking of Grant. It wasn't the same though, and she knew it, but . . . to be changed?

"If what happened?"

"If you were going to die, and I couldn't save you."

When she looked up at him, he was staring far away. His hands hadn't moved, but he seemed distant for all his physical proximity.

He was asking if he had to lose her.

If she was changed, her children would lose her anyway, and she them. She would have Edward, but at what cost? The anguish ripped at her, and she pressed a hand to her stomach.

Her, "I can't," and his, "I'm sorry," were simultaneous.

She shook her head, and he whispered, "I'm sorry," again. "Forgive me for asking. It's too much, and I'm just being selfish."

She wasn't sure she wasn't selfish too. Greedy. Greedy for him—for a life with everything.

But no one got to have everything.

Edward pulled away, leaning out of the stall to grab towels and then turning off the water.

Accepting the towel he handed her, Bella dried off quickly, and wrapped it loosely around herself. She leaned against the bathroom wall to watch Edward do the same. They'd only been naked together once before, under very different circumstances, but this still felt inexplicably familiar. She found herself unwillingly comparing—again—her relationship with Edward to the one she'd had with her husband.

It had taken Bella a long time to be comfortable being naked around Matt. She didn't know if it was the product of youthful insecurity, or a different quality of relationship. She'd had no other basis for comparison. But it felt almost effortless to be with Edward like this. There was no awkwardness, no worrying about hiding her perceived imperfections. Her very flesh told her it was right. She wondered, not for the first time, if this truly was the 'bond' the Cullens had often alluded to—if this was the closest a human could come to experiencing it.

With Edward's question fresh in her mind, Bella contemplated life's several cruel vicissitudes: age, disease, or more likely for her, a vengeful vampire. She was the weak link in their possible happiness.

At one time, she'd asked him for immortality. Not now, though. Who wanted to live forever if it meant distantly watching your own children age and die without you?

No, this was it.

She pushed herself away from the wall and stepped in his direction, not bothering to keep her towel in place. She kept her eyes on his. Taking his face between her hands, she pressed their lips together, tasting the sweetness his mouth hinted at. She liked the feel of his hair wet, moldable and silky under her touch. Her fingers massaged it, craving more of the sensation.

Not in any way immune to her touch, Edward responded in kind, but eventually his hands slid past her hips and he crouched slightly as if to pick her up and carry her.

"No, here," she whispered.

Edward's forehead crinkled a bit, not understanding, and Bella pulled him back towards the wall.

"Here."

He kissed her again. She wasn't sure if he didn't understand what she was asking for or if his still-provincial ideas about what constituted respectful treatment of women didn't allow for it.

"I want you here. Now," she clarified. She let her hand drift down between them to release the towel from his waist.

His eyes darkened suddenly and with almost a single motion, he lifted and then pressed himself into her. Her moan tripped over a glottal edge in her throat, and she arched her head back, trying to squeeze herself further into this moment and the primal feeling this connection between them created. It was easier for him this time. She could feel it in his motions. His body knew where the limits of hers laid—and too, where its tingling pleasures were to be found.

She could feel her tender flesh protesting the activities she was subjecting them to, but it was a small protest, easily buried under the deluge of sensation that was sweeping broadly over her body as he moved within her.

When Edward's lips closed around first one, then the other breast, her hands gripped his shoulders, muscles straining for the release she craved. His cool tongue unlocked the final gate to that welcome oblivion, and the coil of her body retracted, causing her to cling to his neck tightly, crying out. She heard his low, primal growl as his body joined hers in pleasurable disintegration.

After a time, Bella came to the awareness that their bodies were still melted against one another, her legs wrapped around him. Edward, without releasing his hold, carried her to the bed in his room. He didn't set her down as she expected, though, but laid her on her back with her feet propped up against the pillows and the headboard.

"Why—?" Bella started

"It'll help with the swelling." He kissed her and pulled the comforter over her.

Right. He would be thinking of that practicality. Edward lay down beside her, and they traded the gentle brush of fingers and lips. Then she curled against him while Edward stared up at the ceiling, listening or thinking—she wasn't sure which.

As with anytime she lay down, Bella found herself blinking heavily, finally stifling a yawn.

"You can sleep now," Edward whispered.

She struggled with the thought that she should take care of something—someone—else. "The kids, Edward. I should—"

The finger he laid against her lips was gentle but firm. "The children are fine. Please rest." There was a new urgency to his tone and she wondered at it. The darkness in his gaze was still there from before, as well. She could feel how unsettled he was.

Bella raised a hand to stroke his cheek. "Edward?"

His smile was forced. "Bella, _please _sleep." he said urgently. "Everything is fine. It's alright."

It was nothing close to alright, but it also didn't allay her need for rest, and perhaps Edward would feel calmer if she did. She let herself succumb to sleep, wondering, not for the last time, how much more time in the world she'd even have to enjoy this simplest of pleasures, let alone others.

\- 0 -

The light hadn't shifted much when she woke up, but her company had. Rose sat in a chair near the foot of the bed, flipping through a magazine. She didn't look up when Bella blinked her eyes open.

"Where's Edward?" she asked, voice raspy with half-sleep. Instinctively, she reached for the spot beside her where he had been when she'd fallen asleep.

Rose caught the motion and briefly lifted her gaze to Bella's. "He had to go out."

Bella's heart rate doubled, and she pushed herself up off the pillow with a jerk. That nebulous answer had to be a Cullen evasion. "Did he go after her?" she choked out.

Rose frowned, returning her attention to the magazine and flipping a page. "Of course not. Calm down. He's just out, Bella. He needed to . . . hunt. Blow off some steam. He's fine. Jasper is . . . with him."

Bella contemplated this response. Despite the jolt of that initial fear, she still felt the pull of exhaustion and sleep. Surely Rose would be more concerned if her brother was putting himself in danger, wouldn't she?

As if she was the mindreader, Rose lifted her eyes again, this time, leaning forward to make her point. "Really, he's fine. He'll be back soon."

Bella's elbow slipped a little, letting her slide back down into the bed.

"You should get some more sleep." Rose's voice had softened.

Should she now, Bella mused.

"It's the best thing you can do right now," Rose said then, returning to her reading. "For both of you." She muttered the last part almost to herself.

Edward had left, but only temporarily.

He was coming back, Rose said.

"Sleep," Rose said again, even more quietly

Bella's eyelids made the choice for her, and she marvelled how even as the afternoon sun edged toward twilight, she'd found enough hope and trust to leave consciousness for sleep, accepting Rose's promise that Edward would return.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	35. Desperate Supplications

A/N for 2019-09-08: Gosh, you guys are tough on Bella! I didn't really think Edward had the best timing on that question, but hey, that's just me. :-)

New chapters: For now, I can guarantee publishing a chapter every two weeks (still aiming for Sundays), with possibly more in between, as real life permits.

Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her fine, fine work on this chapter and the story. Credit goes to her for this chapter idea, which began as an introduction to the next chapter, and grew into its own separate piece.

\- Erin

* * *

When he knew Bella was fully asleep, Edward issued a plea to his family in a tense, barely-controlled whisper, "I need someone to watch her."

Rose's 'Sure', was silent, reinforced by her audible steps up the stairs.

He was out the bedroom door as soon as she stepped across its threshold, leaping over the railing to the first floor, then needing only a few long strides to reach the front door. He shoved it open, hearing it snap back loudly against the frame as he let himself explode into a wild run.

For the first time in a very long stretch, he was afraid of losing control. And losing his mate.

His family's minds had been full of theories about Victoria. There were notes of despair in their thoughts, with each of them accepting a share of blame for their collective failure to end all this by now

They were all trying to avoid making ugly visual speculations about what Victoria might do if they couldn't.

At one point, in an unguarded moment, Rose had imagined the children in Victoria's clutches, and the headboard in Edward's room was now short a hand-sized chunk of wood for it.

Too much. It was all too much.

His pace quickened, a wake of needles and leaf-mould flying behind him. He couldn't go too far—it simply wasn't safe—but he needed whatever air and space he could find. And something to kill. His hands virtually throbbed with unspent frustration and violence.

Victoria had hurt the woman he loved. Victoria was harming his mate.

And Bella was so easily harmed, too quick to put herself in danger for those she loved, and so frustratingly fragile as a human. _And she has no plans to change that fact_. He felt a clench in his chest as her recent refusal briefly entered his thoughts but he wrestled the feelings back down. For now, nothing mattered but keeping her and her children safe. He had known, even as the words had left his mouth that the timing of his question to Bella could have been better but, not only had he wanted to know, he _needed _to know. With Victoria having proved how easily she could still slip through their defenses, he could no longer pretend that all would be well.

Enough, he told himself. He would make time later to consider his future with Bella, and whether it was right or fair to try to change her mind. But right now, there were too many points to guard, and not enough Cullens to guard them. Even with just the children and her and her father and Sue . . .

In frustration, he slammed his fist into a tree. The fir splintered, its topend crashing down and toppling several of its peers on its way to the forest floor.

He ripped into a neighbouring pine, tearing through the trunk with both hands and then obliterating its falling mast.

Too fresh in his mind were the horrors of watching Esme suffer Jane's torture while he and his family were frozen in stillness. His perfect recall replayed the scene, and then dredged up the horrific memories of finding Bella so perilously wounded in the ballet studio.

Like then, helpless to control it, he felt his human pretense shatter.

His thoughts were a feral haze as he tore into the formation of stone that made up part of the forest floor, his hands pounding, then crushing the rock strata to nothing.

The breeze lifted the dust he'd unsettled, and in its gritty taste he found the scent of something living. Surrendering to his nature, he prowled, launching himself into the heights of the canopy, leaping silently from branch to branch until he found the source: coyotes. The two of them were so engrossed in a stand-off over a long-dead raccoon that they were oblivious to his approach.

An image of Victoria's face flashed briefly through his mind as he dropped to the ground and grabbed both creatures by their mangy necks. He felt the satisfying crack of bone as his jaws closed around first one throat, then another, draining both of them in seconds.

It wasn't enough, not nearly. He let his senses expand, searching for more life with which to slake his anger, thirst, and need for vengeance.

When he heard footsteps and Jasper's thoughts approaching, he crouched and snarled, instinctively protecting his kill and territory.

Jasper paused just within Edward's line of sight, eyes lowered and hands at his sides.

Edward's growl vibrated in his chest.

His brother didn't move.

After a few minutes, thoughts and words became more than suggestions in Edward's mind. Jasper took a single, slow step closer to him.

"No!" he hissed in warning, fearing for his brother. Could he not tell that Edward was still in the throes of bloodlust?

_I'll stay right here, brother_, Jasper called silently. _I'm sorry. _His empathy didn't have words, but Edward knew it all the same. He could see himself in Jasper's thoughts, his eyes black with want and fury, his expression desperate and surely threatening. He watched Jasper register the destruction around them as well—the fallen trees and pulverized rock he had seen on his way, the remains of Edward's drained kills and their prey in a haphazard pile behind him. The sight only served to tempt Edward's feral side.

Unable to suppress it, he snarled again, warning Jasper to stay away. He needed to destroy something so thoroughly it would be as if it never existed. His animal self was overwhelming him again, pulling him towards that frenzied state.

Then the feeling abruptly disappeared.

It was like falling into a void. All emotional sensation simply ended.

The desolation was complete.

Edward dropped to his knees, hands clutching his chest. "Give it back," he gasped. The emptiness was brutal—and familiar. It was the horrifying space he'd found himself in when he thought Bella might be dead all those years ago. "Give it back!"

As precipitously as it began, the absence of emotion ended, and Edward fell forward, his hands burying themselves in the leaf mould and dirt. His breathing was frantic, as if by drawing in the unnecessary air, he could draw life into his own lifeless body.

"She's safe," Jasper said aloud, his guilty thoughts repeating the words. He'd been so worried about his brother's state of mind, he'd used his gift in desperation.

Edward couldn't help the bitter laugh that erupted from his throat as he let Jasper's assurances wash over him. He uncurled his fingers from where they fisted the dirt and leaves and buried them in his hair, pulling at it as hard as he dared without ripping it out by the roots. His knees were wet, the dampness of the ground seeping up where he knelt, and he kept himself folded in this pose of supplication. If God had stopped listening to him, perhaps the earth would instead.

"She's not safe, Jasper. She'll never be safe until Victoria's dead," he said through gritted teeth. "And neither will anyone around her."

Jasper sighed with relief and took a step closer as he witnessed Edward's familiar gesture of frustration. He silently agreed, but his thoughts were more strategically-focused, theories and stratagems spinning outwards from their present situation.

"It's war, Edward. There will be innocent victims," Jasper said. He put a tentative hand on Edward's shoulder and tugged gently, drawing his brother upwards.

Edward rose reluctantly. "She won't let there be more innocent victims in her place."

He listened while Jasper processed this. Jasper's memories flicked guiltily back towards that day in Phoenix.

"I'm not saying that to—"

"I know," Jasper assured him. "But I learned my lesson. Bella is not to be trusted when other lives are at stake." He didn't voice the rest of his thought, letting it be only between them.

Edward recoiled at the suggestion he distrust Bella. He'd fought too hard to gain back what he had with her. He wouldn't risk losing her to his paranoia, but he knew in his heart that Jasper wasn't wrong.

He put his hands to his hair again, growling in frustration. Their difficulties were a twisted infinity loop—all ending where they began. They needed to find Victoria, and until they did, they were only wasting time on old ground.

"We will find her eventually," Jasper said.

Edward snorted, more out of frustration than derision. These were the words he'd given Bella.

Yes, they would find Victoria. In five days. In five years. In five decades. There were no guarantees.

"And in the meantime?" he asked.

"Living in the future doesn't work very well for most of us," Jasper remarked, kicking at the dirt Edward had dislodged, smoothing it out. Taking a few steps toward the dead creatures behind them, he crouched down to begin scooping out a grave.

"So says the man with the psychic mate," Edward muttered, joining him

Jasper laughed softly. "Exactly. The present is where living happens. I don't kiss my wife tomorrow."

There was silence again. Jasper focused his mental attention on observing their surroundings as they worked side-by-side. It was the equivalent of background music for Edward: tedious and tepid, but not intrusive. This near-silence helped Edward sift through his feelings, calming him. Once they had buried the remains of his prey, and Jasper continued to camouflage their activity, Edward paced, skirting the broken trees, circling the rocks he'd crushed.

He thought of Bella and her peaceful expression as she slept, but the image turned on him abruptly. The pose was too near the look of death to be of comfort. Shaking his head, he recalled some of the mundane tasks he had taken on recently in order to care for the human family that had become his.

Something like a smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he thought of a recent grocery shopping trip with Josh. It had been a humbling experience, in some ways. And humbling experiences were new to him.

They were good for him, he mused.

Josh had refused the seat in the cart. Skipping ahead of Edward, his small charge gave his attention to what was at his eye-level: most of it tempting, little of it healthy. His mind had focused immediately on his favourite colours, all the associations matched perfectly to his preferred foods. He'd begun plucking things from the shelves, and Edward had parked the cart, kneeling down, attempting to reason with Josh about his choices.

Josh had been completely unwilling to be moved on any item, clutching the blue packet of cookies to his chest along with a bright orange box of crackers. Though Edward knew they were things Bella only rarely allowed her children to eat, he'd seen the disorder brewing in Josh's mind, and let him keep his bright treasures.

Edward felt a bit like that now: his thinking self pulled and distorted between the demands of feeling and logic. He needed to protect her. His body demanded in all its feral possessiveness that he hide her away and snap at anything that came near, but his head and heart knew her well-being rested in the normalcy of the day-to-day experience of work and home.

He both heard and felt Jasper catching up to him.

"If you set the tone in how to navigate this, she'll follow your lead. Do what you've been doing. Pretend everything is under control. Don't overreact. Be as calm as possible."

Edward eyed his brother, considering this. His ability to pretend wasn't the weak point. Would Bella give it credit?

He shook his head. "She's so stubborn, Jasper."

"You can't hear her thoughts," Jasper said.

"But I have eyes. And there are other things I sense."

"And I can sense how much she needs your full reassurance—your belief that you can all navigate this." Jasper's face and thoughts were earnest.

And there it was. The admission Edward hadn't wanted to make to anyone, including himself.

He was afraid they couldn't. The ugly memories surfaced again, and as they returned, so did his profound fear.

"You have to believe it, Edward," Jasper said, his voice earnest. "You will prevail, because we will ensure it. But you _must_ believe it." Jasper's hand squeezed his shoulder. Peeking out from underneath his brother's surface thoughts, Edward caught a trace of Jasper's own hope: that he and Alice would be spared, in some miraculous way, their lot with the Volturi.

It was another brick loaded on the cares already weighing on Edward's shoulders. Jasper's hand felt very, very heavy.

"Of course," he whispered, trying to summon something beyond desperation, knowing that he wasn't fooling the empath beside him.

"No, no," Jasper said, "We are with you in this. You are not alone."

Not like when he'd left them before, dragging all his troubles back with him when he'd returned.

"_Believe_, Edward. If only for her sake, have hope. It is a choice, after all." Jasper's hand left his shoulder. "I'll leave you now. Try to be a little quieter in your musings, hmm?" A ghost of a smirk curled Jasper's lips. Normally he was the one who needed reminding of their human pretense. There was some perverse delight in being able to remind Edward now.

Edward watched his brother disappear, then sank back to his knees in the dirt, wood chips and broken rocks. In his most desperate times, he'd never given himself over to prayer. He'd never believed there was much of a point to it or that there was even anyone listening to the soulless creature he believed himself to be. He wasn't sure there was now, but there was a grain of uncertainty. It was enough for him to begin whispering to the wind his desperate supplications. If it only released his fears to some other carrier, it would be enough.

"Let me be what she needs. Let me be calm. Help me let her live fully. Let me be the man her children need. Let me guard her heart and her body. Please, let me be enough for this. _Please_."

There was no answer, but there was a calmness in the silence.

Slowly releasing the air in his chest, he stood and dusted himself off before setting off to close the distance between the two pieces of his heart: one silent, and one beating.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	36. Home

A/N for 2019-09-22: A note of thanks to The Lemonade Stand for their recommendation of this story. I will argue, until blue in the face, that the quality of this fic would be nowhere near what it is without the work of Eeyorefan12, who betas this thing like it's her full-time job.

Thank you all, also, for sharing your thoughts on this story in your reviews. It really is wonderful to see this story from the perspective of so many other eyes and minds. The more I write, the more I am convinced that good writing is rarely a solo-effort, and requires the input of many readers and editors.

I tinkered with things after my beta was done her final read through, so all errors are my own.

Cheers,

~ Erin

* * *

Edward was relieved to find Bella still asleep upon his return to the Cullen home, but with the children fully engrossed in activities with Alice and his brothers, and Rosalie affectionately but firmly telling him to stop hovering, he decided to make himself useful in another way.

Since they didn't have exactly what he needed for Bella, Edward was making do with what would be a fairly good approximation. After folding several strips of gauze into layered rectangles, he seasoned them with witch hazel and aloe. The result of his work sat on a clean tray on the kitchen island.

Emmett wasn't the loudest thinker in the house, but as with any of his family members, Edward recognized the tenor of his larger brother's thoughts as they moved in his direction. While Emmett didn't verbally query or comment on what Edward was doing as he entered the kitchen, he did let his thoughts colourfully wander and wonder. When they clicked into understanding—putting together the sounds from Edward's bedroom—and the realization that a human might need some careful handling, Edward's hard-won, but still-tenuous control momentarily fractured.

He had Emmett on the floor in a tight headlock, a menacing snarl curling from his throat.

Wisely, Emmett did not resist, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Edward," Carlisle called from the doorway. His voice was soft, but full of worried warning.

Edward released Emmett immediately with a mortified, "Sorry." He gave his brother a hand up, not able to even meet his eyes. So much for Jasper's advice not to overreact, he thought ruefully.

Emmett shrugged off the apology. The gesture belied the sober and completely un-Emmett-like tone of his thoughts. The entire family was similarly subdued, all of them keenly aware of what Victoria's vengeance had cost. The constant buzz of their thinking was partly what had driven Edward out into the woods before. The fact that little of it had changed since his return a few minutes ago left him uncomfortably on edge but still determined to ignore it as well as he could. He knew they were doing their best and his _talent, _a better word for the ability he rarely considered a gift, made it nearly impossible for them to be private.

Turning away, Edward put the pan in the freezer. Then he suddenly found himself snorting out a reluctant laugh upon hearing Emmett's original reason for coming to the kitchen.

"The, uh, kids wanted popsicles." Emmett said as he watched Edward, silently adding, _but not that kind. Right?_

His lips still twisted with begrudging humour, Edward reached into the freezer and pulled out two of the fruit-only popsicles Esme had bought, handing them to Emmett, who nodded his thanks and left.

Carlisle hadn't said anything else, either aloud or in his mind. He waited for Emmett to leave before making his thoughts clear.

_You're doing so well with her right now. With everything. _An image of Jasper's face briefly flickered in his thoughts. Edward knew it was Carlisle's way of telling him he'd been filled in on the afternoon's events in the woods; He couldn't fault Jasper for going to his father. He would have done the same.

Edward shook his head, looking at Carlisle and frowning as he saw his own concerned expression through Carlisle's eyes.

_You are. You love her. You're listening to her—to everyone._ He tried to keep the, _not like before_, out of his mind.

Edward snorted bitterly. "Thank you for graciously minimizing my past errors—monumental as they were then."

Carlisle's mind was only full of compassion and encouragement. _I'm proud of you, son. The strength you display—the control. No matter what came before or what mistakes that you made, you are more than making up for them. _

"Still, I'm terrified, Carlisle," Edward admitted. He let his hand curl around the edge of the granite counter, immediately realizing there was too much force in his grip and releasing it slowly. "I don't think Bella will do anything reckless now, not while she's pregnant, but . . ."

"I understand," Carlisle said. He didn't need to hear the statement finished.

Neither of them did.

Memories of the bloody and violent scene at the ballet studio flickered through Carlisle's mind.

"Exactly," Edward agreed.

"We will find Victoria, eventually." There was conviction in both Carlisle's words and thoughts. "Your brothers are going out in a few minutes to look for clues about Bella's friend. Perhaps, if we can locate him . . . " His voice trailed off, but his thoughts continued. He wanted to find Grant and offer him guidance in their lifestyle.

It was a good idea, and Edward wanted to be hopeful, especially for Bella's sake. "But Alice can't see Victoria right now." They all knew this, but it bore repeating.

"For now, yes," Carlisle agreed. Then he lifted his gaze. "But when she can, and we find Victoria, she needs to be destroyed."

The pronouncement was startling, coming from Carlisle's lips. Given his father's past tendency toward pacifism, Edward supposed his plan still needed audible utterance—his commitment in more than thought.

There was relief too, hearing Carlisle's words because, while he craved his sire's good opinion of him above all others, Edward knew he himself would be unyielding on this point. Victoria _had_ to die...and he wanted to be the one to tear her limb from limb and set her ablaze.

Carlisle went on. "Given how brazen she's been, she's very likely to make an error soon. We'll have our opportunity then."

While Edward acknowledged the probable truth in the words, he felt no sense of ease. "If it happens before Bella reaches her breaking point, yes."

Carlisle looked at the floor, dusting away a speck with a sweep of his foot. "Bella's a mother, Edward. And while I think you have an inkling of what that means, I don't think you can understand it completely. She may want to, or even speak of giving herself up to Victoria in order to spare other lives, but it is her own children she will protect first. And that will mean keeping herself alive and well, certainly for the sake of her youngest, and for a considerable time after she gives birth. We will find Victoria long before then."

Edward's gaze flicked to his father's face. He might be able to read the contents of minds, but their emotional gravity was often another thing entirely. He hoped Carlisle was right.

As on cue, a set of little thoughts entered his consciousness as tiny feet smacked along the hardwood towards him.

"Man!" Josh called.

"Hi Josh," he said, crouching down to greet Bella's son. Sometimes there were hugs. Sometimes there weren't. Today there were none.

Josh waved a sticky hand at him. He waved back. Carlisle smiled at the scene and slipped quietly out of the room.

"Yes, that does look yummy," he agreed as Josh took another suck of his bright red popsicle.

"Mama?" Josh asked.

"She's sleeping right now," Edward explained.

Josh bounced on his feet, thoughts becoming agitated.

"No, no, we can go see her if you want, but we should be quiet."

Lifting his hands up hopefully, Josh smiled when Edward picked him up and stuck him on his shoulders. "Bear hunt, or Mama hunt?"

"Mama!" Josh squeaked, bouncing his bum on Edward's shoulders.

"We're going on a mama-hunt!" Edward chanted. Josh copied his intonation exactly with a series of "Uh-uh-uh-uh's", keeping time with little bounces. Marching out the front door, Edward carried Josh around the yard, holding his tiny ankles in his hands and making up new lines to the song. Bella had been asleep for a few hours, according to Rose. Still, he hated to wake her, so he strung out the song as long as he could. Josh was still young enough that his attention could be redirected for a time. When they came across a particularly wide and soft patch of moss at the edge of the yard, Edward set Josh down and let him run his hands over it.

"Soft," Edward said. "Moss is soft."

"Soft," Josh repeated, burying his little fingers in the tiny green fronds. This occupied his attention for a few minutes.

Edward cocked his head, listening to Josh's thoughts. He could hear him reaching for a memory. Ah, there it was. He'd ridden on his father's shoulders too. The moss reminded him of his hair. But now he wasn't sure. He thought of Edward's hair, and it too felt soft. Both were varying shades of the same colour.

"That's right," Edward said, "that was your daddy you're thinking of." Josh looked up at him. "He had red hair. My hair is a little red too, but not as red as yours."

A little sigh escaped Josh's chest. "Man," he concluded, patting the moss. He'd determined that Edward's hair was nicer—softer.

Edward smiled.

Then he heard Bella roll over in bed and her heart rate pick up, sounds that told him her body was waking.

"Ready to go finish our mama-hunt?" he asked Josh.

"Mama!" Josh replied, standing and lifting his hands again. His popsicle dripped heavily in one hand, and Edward felt it ooze against his hair and neck as he jogged them back to the house. It was like fear—viscous and sticky, and like blood—or what he knew his blood would probably feel like to him, were he still human.

There were so many lives, and so much responsibility, and they were all his. And he wasn't sure he could keep them all safe—in addition to protecting everyone else who was important to Bella and her family. Still, he felt a swell of gratitude and affection for his own family members, every one of whom had made it clear he was not in this alone. He allowed himself a glimmer of hope at this thought, wanting to nourish whatever positive feelings he could in the midst of the current darkness.

\- 0 -

They had spent the night at the Cullens' house, but returned to Bella's in the morning so they could keep the children on a semblance of their regular schedule. Bella called in a substitute for that school day, and then the next. On Wednesday evening, Edward watched as she picked up her phone and then put it down once, twice, three times, before finally huffing out a frustrated sigh.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I'm afraid—and I can't say I like being a coward." She didn't look at him, instead still staring at her phone on the coffee table.

He almost chewed through his own cheek, keeping himself from telling her she wasn't. Gentle suggestions, he reminded himself. "And why do you think you're being a coward?"

She smiled a little, and he might have called the sound she made a laugh, were it not so bitter. She rubbed her face in her hands. "I'm hiding, Edward. I've barely left the house, and I can't even bring myself to go to work."

He abandoned all subtlety, pulling her close. "It's been a difficult week and...we all need time to regroup. You're not a coward, and you're not hiding."

"No, just not going to work, and avoiding interacting with the world. Cowering at home. All signs of a fearless soul."

"Bella," he breathed into her hair. "Your children haven't so much as registered a difference in your behaviour, and you haven't gone to work because you need to make good on the story you gave them."

She snorted.

He pulled back so he could see her face. "It isn't that much of a story, either."

She shook her head dismissively. "I'm fine."

This was harder to tolerate. She wasn't. He'd heard the uneven whoosh of her blood brimming and receding. Carlisle had too, but kept his thoughts to himself. His father's circumspectness had been reminder enough for Edward to give Bella space. She had already made clear the lines she wanted kept between family and medical care.

"You're not, and . . . " He made himself stop, briefly considering letting it go. He decided against it. She needed to understand just how serious it was. "You are being reckless with your health, and your baby's."

Her pupils dilated, nose flaring. He knew the signs of her anger. He watched it recede just as quickly as she eyed him shrewdly. "How?" There was an edge to her voice, but he suspected she'd listen.

He gave her the least information he could. Better to give less, and let her ask for more. "You need your blood pressure checked."

Her expression was skeptical. Please, he thought. Please just—

"_Just_ my blood pressure?"

"To start. I'm sure your midwife will want to do more."

Her shoulders relaxed a little, and then a lot, like she was letting something go. "Okay." She looked at him, teeth digging into her lip. "I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark here and say that you probably want to do that right now."

Hardly daring to hope for an easy victory on this, he nodded.

"Okay."

He was gone and back with the medical kit from the kitchen in seconds. Bella rolled her eyes, but was smiling when she did so.

Like he suspected, her blood pressure was far too high. When he told her, she asked, "And that means?"

It meant she was stressed, and that her body was stressed, and that was not good for her, or for her baby. It could also mean the start of pre-eclampsia, but he wasn't going to rattle her with the more terrifying what-ifs.

"It means you need to rest, and relax."

She barked out another bitter laugh. "I have been doing nothing but."

"I would hardly call worrying like you have restful, or relaxing."

He watched her forehead pinch with anxiety and could almost imagine what was going through her head. Since he'd had no personal connection to Grant, he had no reason to mourn what he'd become, except for how it would affect Bella. He knew it could not be easy for her to accept what had happened to the man, especially knowing why Grant had been singled out. Adding that misplaced guilt to her already frayed nerves was likely the reason they were having this conversation. Still, he wished he knew how to make her understand the danger she faced if he could not convince her to rest more.

A set of deliberately audible steps announced Esme's arrival. She gave them both an apologetic smile. The Cullens had suggested they start stopping by more overtly to play with the children and be helpful. They'd tried to play it off as purely social for the children's sake. Josh and Mer had accepted the pretense. Bella had not. Each arrival made fresh lines of worry cross Bella's face. He could see her wondering if his family was there to defend or help. His reassurances did little to lessen her concern.

"You've been requested," Esme said. "Mr. Man." Now her smile was wider. Her mind was full of a deep and wordless joy for the relationship she saw blossoming between Josh and Edward.

Edward looked to Bella, who smirked at him. "Up for recitation three hundred?" She teased.

He laughed. "Technically, we're at number eighty-four." Josh enjoyed books in spurts, and mostly, the same book read repeatedly. Edward had his few favourite stories memorized. The currently preferred tale was still _Bunnycakes_. He'd had to 'read' it to Josh eighteen times the previous night before his small charge fell asleep.

Josh wasn't interested in hearing any stories though; he was simply on the pleasant verge of sleep, and his mind only registered relief at seeing Edward. He wanted the simple comfort of his presence, reaching out a hand and touching Edward's as he came to sit on the bed.

It freed Edward to listen to the conversation blossoming downstairs.

Esme was putting away the medical supplies.

"Playing doctor?" she quipped to Bella, who laughed.

"Well, yes, Esme, although I'm not sure I should admit it to my fiance's mother."

It was Esme's turn to laugh, and Edward smiled. Esme enjoyed this older version of Bella—one who could make and take jokes that would've made Emmett blush. Emmett still tried out his ribald humor occasionally, but his opportunities were limited. He knew better than to toss racy insinuations at Bella when Josh and Mer were around. He was looking at Edward when he claimed one resting bitch face in the house was enough.

"How are you feeling?" Esme asked.

"Oh, you know," Bella said. He could hear the rustle of her shrug as he watched it through Esme's eyes.

Edward sighed. Who did she think she was fooling? Herself?

"Pregnancies tend to get harder with each one."

"So I've heard," Bella said. She lifted her eyebrows at Esme.

"Women didn't have much choice in my time about how many children they had. The toll of multiple pregnancies . . . " Her voice trailed off as she recalled some of those startling and ugly memories.

Through his mother's thoughts, he could see Bella considering this. "Fortunately, this will be my last, and I can't say I'm sad about it." She shifted on the couch. Her hand went to the just-visible swelling at her abdomen.

Esme had sat down beside her, and now she held out a tentative hand. "May I?" she asked.

"Sure," Bella smiled. She had leaned into the cushions, head resting on the sofa back, eyes closed.

"Your little one is busy," Esme said.

Esme watched Bella's head snap up. "You can—right. Of course you can feel that."

Esme's smile was still bright and wide. "Not a lot, but I can definitely feel when they're active."

"They?" There was a note of alarm in her voice.

"Him or her. Just one," Esme said gently, pulling her hand away. She looked at Bella, and Edward was reassured by her thoughts. "And I'll second Edward's opinion. You're not hiding. You're protecting your family by taking care of yourself. I do wish you were less worried about work."

"Ha," Bella said weakly. "Teachers do it well."

"Mm," Esme empathized. "I know. I used to teach."

"You did? I didn't know that."

"It wasn't for long. It was, however, when I was pregnant."

"Ah," Bella said, her shoulders tensing in anticipation of a lecture. _Et tu, Esme_?

She needn't have worried. Edward grinned to himself, gently rubbing his fingers over Josh's. Josh gave a little yawn and rolled over in his bed, curling an arm around his stuffed pig.

"I enjoyed it," Esme went on. "You won't get any guff from me about working."

Edward watched Bella's shoulders relax as Esme continued. "At that time, they were so desperate for teachers that they let me stay on, even though I was pregnant. It just wasn't done at the time. It was hard leaving, when I finally needed to."

"How far along did you teach?" Bella leaned back into the cushions.

Edward admired his mother's tack. "Pretty late. Almost to my due date. It was another mother who finally gave me the nudge I needed. And help, too. There were a few families who lived close enough to the school to see me. Most children arrived on their own. She brought me some milk of magnesia." There was a flicker of memory, a blurry face, and the distinct shape of the amber bottle in a set of strong hands. "Which I really, really needed." Her hand went to her throat briefly, and Edward stiffened with momentary fear. The memory of a burning sensation similar to her days as a newborn passed, and with it, any possibility for the triggering of temptation. Esme's thoughts returned squarely to the present. "She told me it was time to know what it meant to take care of my own, and to let go of other people's children. She was very kind about it, but I'll be honest, I felt a bit rebuked. I understood what she meant, though. Ultimately, it's your own children you're responsible for."

And there it was. The same comprehension on Bella's face. Just a flicker, but it was there. She nodded slowly.

"That would be hard to hear."

"It was," Esme said.

Josh's hand was a warm and limp weight in his. Very gently, Edward set it on the bed, and slipped away, taking silent steps back to Bella.

Giving Esme a grateful look, he switched places with her, grasping a larger, and even warmer hand than the one he'd just been holding.

"Let's go see my midwife tomorrow," Bella said, sighing as she leaned in to him.

Exhaling in relief, he nodded, catching Esme's silent _you're welcome_ as she left the room

\- 0 -

"Your heart-rate is quite elevated," Anita said to Bella, "and your blood-pressure too." Her speculations as to why were varied, and only audible to Edward.

Edward watched Bella smile nervously. "A little," she said.

Anita busied herself with notes, giving herself time to think. She was trying to find a way to suggest what Edward had hoped she would.

Edward shifted in his seat, looking pointedly at the blood-pressure cuff and then at the midwife. The movement was enough. She glanced at him, nodding slightly. She understood his concerns, and he couldn't help feeling grateful that Bella had chosen a midwife who was so perceptive and informed.

Putting her pen down, Anita said, "There are only a few weeks to go in the school year, yes?"

"Mm-hmm ," Bella said, uncrossing her legs.

Anita patted the ottoman in front of her. She'd invited Bella to put her feet up earlier, and now Bella finally did so.

The midwife sighed a little. "I don't like these readings, Bella, and given your medical history, I'd recommend you take leave from work."

Bella's face flinched. Edward assumed she was feeling the frustration of his being proven right about his concerns yesterday. He kept his expression carefully neutral.

"I can't," Bella said.

"Oh, you can," Anita said. "But I understand that you don't want to."

"I have senior-level classes, and they have the provincial exam—"

"They have an exam. _You_ have a baby growing inside of you. Someone else can teach them. No one else can grow your baby." Anita's voice combined her gentle yet firm nature in a way that Edward envied.

"You don't understand. It would be incredibly irresponsible for me to leave at this point in the year, having me—"

"Take leave to take care of your body and your baby?"

Bella looked accusingly at Edward. He raised his eyebrows and turned over his hands in gestures of innocence to make it clear Anita's conclusions were her own. The fact that they matched his was only a positive, in his view.

Sighing, Bella nodded an apology. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

Her voice trembled as she spoke. "I don't want to quit work right now. I feel like I'd be giving up on my students."

Edward wished this was the whole truth. He knew she also didn't want to change her life because of Victoria's threats and actions.

As far as they could tell, the human world didn't yet know of Grant Wilson's absence—or really, what was essentially a death, for all practical purposes. Nor could they tell anyone. It would simply raise too many questions. Each of the Cullens had studied the picture from Bella's desk, trying to puzzle out some clue to the location. Most of them had gone out on searches when possible, using a sweatshirt pilfered from Grant's classroom in their attempts to track his scent. The trail had gone impossibly and frustratingly cold.

Anita's face was sympathetic. "I don't think you're giving up on them, Bella, and I doubt very much they'd think that either. But you do need to rest and get these readings down. I'm concerned that if I ask you to just take a week, you'll spend it worrying about going back to work. I really do think it would be better to simply start your summer early. Surely there are worse fates than having a long summer break?

There were so many worse fates, Edward mused. So many.

Bella's, "Okay," was soft. Deflated. Defeated.

Edward squeezed her hand again, trying to reassure her that everything would be alright. He _wanted_ everything to be alright. Jasper's words from a few days before were still with him. _You have to believe_, his brother had told him. _Hope is a choice._ Looking into the sweet brown eyes of the woman he loved, he decided in that moment it was a choice he could make.

\- 0 -

Everyone at the school was understanding of her need to take leave. Despite his offer to do so for her, Bella refused to let Edward collect her things, saying she wanted to do it herself. Edward went quietly with her, unwilling to let her out of his sight.

"The job is yours to come back to, if you want it," the principal said, shaking her hand. "Or not, as you need." He glanced towards her midsection and smiled gently. "You've been a marvelous addition to the staff."

"Thank you," Bella said. Her smile was tinged with sadness. Every action seemed so coloured with emotion in the last few days.

The principal meant his praise, and Edward nodded and smiled cursorily at him. He wanted Bella to gather her things and leave. Just being in her classroom, and thus near Grant's, was sending her heart-rate skyrocketing.

He put the cardboard box they'd brought onto her desk, gratified when Bella's principal took the hint.

"But I won't keep you," Barry said, nodding in both their directions and turning to go.

Edward had her things packed in seconds.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Bella said. Her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper.

In the hall, she paused.

"You don't have to," Edward reminded her, knowing it was futile.

"I do." She went and knocked on what had been Grant's door. It was well after the end of school, but there was still a light on in the room.

A stranger opened it, wearing what Edward could tell was Grant's apron. "Yes?" the man asked, looking at them both. Edward could already sense his impatience even before hearing the thoughts confirming it.

"Oh," Bella said. "I was hoping to say goodbye to Grant."

"Yeah, well. I think everyone would like to know where he is." His tone made it clear he didn't think much of Bella's former colleague.

"He isn't sick?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"I have no idea. I got called in with no notice. He didn't show up for work, and didn't phone in sick. Who knows? Pretty darn irresponsible, if you ask me."

"That's completely unlike him," Bella countered, anger creeping out at the edges of her voice. "I hope he's alright. If you see him, please tell him Bella came to say 'bye.'"

"Sure." The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.

Edward allowed this to bother him. He narrowed his eyes, and the man stepped back in sudden alarm, closing the door in their faces.

Bella glanced back at him, and he tried to look suitably chastened.

"It's okay. He was an ass," she said. "Can you teach me to do that?"

This made him smile. It was the first sign of real life in her he'd seen in days.

They walked towards the car, hands linked, Edward holding the box of her things under his arm. As he put it in the trunk, Bella looked back at the school.

"Edward?"

He turned back to her, smacking the trunk closed with a flick of his finger. "Yes?"

"Let's go home."

"Of course."

"No, I mean _home_—to Forks."

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyers owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	37. A Broken Circle

A/N for 2019-10-6: A few of you have expressed concern that this story is coming to an end soon-ish. Not quite. I expect there will be about fifty-six chapters in total, give or take a few as inspiration strikes. As for your other speculations, I offer no spoilers.

A reminder: I've written an outtake for the Babies at the Border fundraiser compilation (Twitter, AT BatB_2018) that comes right after this chapter. Donation deadline for the compilation is November 24th, 2019. The compilation will be released December 1, 2019. Lots of time to donate, still.

My beta is amazing. I know I say this a lot, but it is true. Thank you, Eeyorefan12 for all that you do.

~ Erin

* * *

Charlie had been ecstatic when Bella told him they were coming for the summer. He'd started talking a mile a minute, reminding her that he and Sue would stay at Sue's home in La Push so she and the kids wouldn't be crowded at his place. Then he'd fallen silent for almost a full minute when she had told him they would be staying at the Cullens' former residence.

Edward had already assured her it would be nothing to have it ready whenever they needed it.

She'd almost thought to pinch herself, walking around in what felt like an old home—and yet, not one that had ever truly been hers. She also hadn't appreciated just how many ghosts of her past the place would still contain.

But everywhere was full of ghosts, she told herself, if you lived long enough. Including the home she'd made with Matt.

The entire Cullen family relocated, though not so that the population of Forks would know. Edward, Jasper and Alice were the only public faces the Cullens presented to town. It would be too strange to have the entire clan together again after so long. Too much time had passed for Esme and Carlisle to be seen without heavy make-up, and it would be an uncanny coincidence to have Emmett and Rosalie there too. Most of the family was supposedly still in Alaska, working.

At the moment, Bella was trying to establish her own equilibrium with her father, discussing that evening's dinner plans. "So, is it just you and the kids coming for dinner tonight, or is _he_ coming with you too?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, Dad. Edward is coming too. Unless you don't want him to?" She knew Charlie had hoped her reunion with Edward would be a brief one.

She heard his cough before he answered. She couldn't tell, over the phone, if a surreptitious, "damn it," was hidden underneath it. "No, no, he might as well come too, I suppose."

"Your hospitality is overwhelming, Dad."

He grunted in reply, then added, "I love you. Can't wait to see you and the kids."

There was no question of whether or not it was a singular or a plural you.

"Can I bring anything?" Bella asked, leaning against the kitchen wall to take a bit of weight off her feet.

"No, we're good. The kids like hamburgers, right?"

"For sure. See you then, Dad."

Edward came up beside her, his smile tentative. All smiles felt that way these days, though slightly less so, now that they were away from Vancouver. "Why don't I cut up some fruit, too?"

"A wise plan, Mr. Cullen." She let herself grin. Josh had eaten a hamburger before. Once. It was good to be prepared for his unpredictable tastes.

Edward slipped his arms around her. "Do you want to tell him tonight?"

Her gaze dropped to her bare left hand.

"Let's wait," she said. She didn't think her fears around Charlie's reception of the news were unfounded, and it could prove to be a long summer if her father reacted as she expected him to.

"You're still worried."

"Aren't you?" she asked.

He let himself chuckle. "For all your father's vengeful fantasies, I don't think he'd actually act on any of them."

"That wasn't really my main concern, but now that you mention it . . . " She quirked an eyebrow at him, and let herself smile.

"I love you," he said softly.

"Love you too," she murmured.

He pulled her towards one of the chairs at the counter, sitting down before lifting her onto his lap. "Did you and Matt have rings?"

The question caught her off guard, until she realized that Edward would have never seen her wearing one. "Yeah, we did."

"You don't wear it, though."

"No," she smiled a little, holding out her left hand, as if assessing its size. "It doesn't fit anymore. I never had it resized."

"Hmm," he said, gently brushing the finger in question with his own. He spoke very softly. "So, would you want to wear a new ring?"

Bella was surprised to realize she hadn't given an engagement or wedding ring from Edward any thought. Now, she turned her head to look into his eyes, reading the love in his hopeful gaze. She reached up and laid a hand against his cheek. "I would."

Edward's, "Okay," was soft and punctuated with an equally gentle kiss.

When they pulled up to Charlie's house several hours later, her father's cruiser was parked in front along with Sue's car, and one other that Bella didn't recognize.

Edward turned off the ignition and paused, staring toward the house. "I think one of Sue's children must be here." His remark sounded purely observational, but his sideways look communicated a great deal more.

"Seth or Leah?" Bella supplied.

"Did we meet them before?" Mer asked from the back seat.

"Yes, but you were very little." Bella stared at Edward, waiting for his pronouncement.

"It's okay," Edward mouthed to her.

"Is it?" Bella asked aloud.

"Is what?" Meredith piped up from the back.

Edward nodded again.

"Why don't you run ahead and say hi to Grandpa?" Bella suggested.

"Okay!" Meredith had her seatbelt off and was out the door in a second, running up the sidewalk to the house.

Josh shrieked in jealous protest, kicking his feet into Edward's seat.

"Don't worry, Josh, your turn next," Edward said calmly, getting out and unbuckling him.

Bella got out too, stiffening when a familiar voice spoke.

"Hey Bella." Looking up, she found Seth several paces ahead of her.

She practically exhaled in relief. Seth was easy-going. Leah was not. "Hey yourself," she said cautiously.

In the past, she would've opened her arms to the man, but not now. Her stance was uncertain, as was his.

Seth nodded politely to Bella, and then directed his stare at Edward, his posture now stiff and brittle. Edward's form had also gone unnaturally still, his gaze not leaving Seth's face. Josh had hold of Edward's hand, but wiggled and jumped beside him, making Edward look even more like a statue. "We're just here for dinner," Bella said quietly.

Both men nodded, but Bella wasn't reassured by their silence. She stepped closer to take Edward's other hand, squeezing it. "We're just here for dinner," she said again.

"Yes, we are," Edward answered softly. Unaffected, Josh was now jumping up and down on the gravel beside them, enjoying the crunch it made underfoot. His actions seemed to break some of the tense visual exchange between the two men as he briefly drew Seth's attention.

"I have no interest in trouble," Seth finally said, his voice even.

Bella gave a quick nod. "Good, then let's go inside."

"My mother and wife are here, as well as my daughter," Seth said, looking at Edward, still not moving. It was a startling realization, understanding that he wasn't there to welcome them, but to block their path to the door.

"We all have family here," Bella replied, angry now.

"His wife doesn't know," Edward murmured to her.

"His wife doesn't know what?" Bella asked, more of Seth, than Edward. "About what you and he are? Or that I'm not actually crazy? Or both?" She arched an eyebrow at Seth.

Seth actually looked away, his discomfort clear in the twitch of his shoulders. "It wasn't my idea, Bella, and I didn't exactly get much say in it."

"No, you've just kept it up for ten years." She knew it wasn't fair to say it, but he was the first pack member besides Sue that she'd seen since she realized she wasn't insane, and it was hard not to let the volley of anger loose at him. She made herself suck in a breath, and recognize the logic of his words. "You're right though, you were just a kid when it happened. And I know the pack had to protect itself. It just—"

"It was awful," Seth finished for her. He looked at her, and then back at the house. "And it affected far more than just you. I know. I'm sorry."

She was far from ready to forgive the pack for what they'd done, but she could take Seth's apology and let it sit with her.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Pa!" Josh said, tiring of his hopping. He looked at the house. They'd talked about seeing Grandpa Charlie. Clearly, he understood one of his favourite people was tantalizingly close.

"Real soon, bud, hold on," Bella said, then turned back to Seth. "How does your wife not know?"

"We don't live on the rez, and most of us haven't phased in a long time. We'd have liked to keep it that way." He eyed Edward again.

"I'm sorry for that," Edward said to Seth. Bella could hear from his tone that he really was. The Cullens' presence was bound to force the change at some point, or bring it forth in more of the younger tribal members.

Seth shrugged, though the twist of his lips betrayed bitterness. "You're just here for the summer, right?"

Bella and Edward nodded.

"Good," Seth said. "Then I think we can possibly-" He glanced again at Josh before slightly lowering his voice. "-not kill each other over dinner."

They went inside, Seth first, Bella, Edward and Josh following at a circumspect distance. Josh squealed his delight at seeing Charlie.

After giving Bella a hug, and not glaring at Edward, whom he acknowledged with a cursory nod, Charlie whispered to Josh. "Come on, I have a big surprise for you in the backyard. You'll need your swimsuit, though."

Bella had dressed him in one at her father's request, figuring Charlie had unearthed the lawn sprinkler. She was surprised to find a kiddy pool, a slide, and a small playset centred in the plain yard.

"Oh wow," she said, catching sight of what her dad had done.

Josh was ecstatic. Charlie had placed the small slide so that it angled right into the pool, and Josh spent the next twenty minutes running a tiny circuit, splashing into the pool with delighted squeaks.

Bella hadn't visited Forks much since leaving, so she hadn't yet met Seth's wife, Camille, a petite and slender blonde, who spoke with a surprising French accent.

"Yes, she's from France," Seth said, beaming as he looked at his wife, then at Bella.

"How'd you two meet?" Bella asked. She'd heard about the engagement from Charlie and Sue when they visited, but not much else. She and Matt hadn't been able to come for the wedding, and Seth and Camille had been away when they last visited.

"I was on a graduate internship at Peninsula College, and this handsome young man happened to be in my tutorial. We met, and . . ." She held her free hand up to show she didn't have words to describe it.

"I fell in love at first sight, and convinced her to join me for the ride," Seth said, still grinning.

Bella wondered if that was the polite way of saying he'd imprinted. She wouldn't have even considered the possibility until now; The idea had been tied up with what she'd thought was her psychosis. Glancing at Edward, she saw nothing revealed in his features. She'd ask him later.

Seth and Camille's daughter, Marcella, had her mother's delicate features, and her father's dark hair, a generous tuft of which stuck straight up from her head. It made her look like a surprised troll doll. Only a few months old, she was at that blessed stage of babyhood where she didn't mind being passed from adult to adult.

"May I?" Bella asked. They were seated around the living room. Mer was chattering happily with Sue in the kitchen, and Bella could hear Josh still splashing while Charlie encouraged him from his station at the BBQ.

"Of course," Camille said, gently transferring the baby to Bella's arms.

It felt good to hold a baby, and beside her, she swore she could hear Edward smiling.

"Would you like to hold her too?" Camille asked Edward.

Bella didn't look up, but she knew Edward had tensed beside her. If she tore her gaze from Marcella's sweet face, she didn't doubt she'd see a storm brewing on Seth's. The coffee table vibrated slightly, resonating with the pulse from Seth's knee.

"I'm just getting over a cold, so I really shouldn't, but thank you," Edward said.

"Ah, yes. Charlie said you were a doctor?" Camille asked him.

"I am, but I'm on leave right now."

"Oh?"

"I wanted time to be with Bella and the children."

Seth coughed. It barely hid the note of disbelief.

"Dinner's ready!" Charlie called from the patio. He'd set up the picnic table and had placed the small kitchen table outside as well.

"I should check her diaper," Seth said, holding out his arms for his daughter.

"Sure," Bella said, feeling a pinch of sadness. She loved this stage of babyhood, and it was with distinct reluctance that she handed Marcella back to her father. "She's beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you for letting me hold her."

Seth only nodded, whisking his daughter away, as everyone else moved towards the table.

"Charlie said you were expecting another one?" Camille asked, as they sat down next to each other.

"I am," Bella answered quietly. She was surprised that Charlie had said anything. He'd let her and Matt spread their own news—then she understood. He'd wanted people to know it was Matt's, and not Edward's. A knot formed in her stomach. She'd known it would be hard for her father to accept Edward, but clearly it was going to be a lot harder than she expected.

"Congratulations," Camille offered.

"Thanks."

Josh and Mer took up most of her and Edward's attention during dinner, a few words spared for Charlie and Sue. When most everyone else was done eating, Josh still soldiered on, little bite by little bite.

"No rush, little one," Charlie said, as Josh eyed everyone else's empty plates. "I'm glad you like my burgers. Way better than fruit, huh?"

Bella all but rolled her eyes at this jab at Edward, prepared to defend him.

Sue piped up, sparing Bella the need to reply. "Enough, you. Let's clear this up and let Josh eat in peace. Nothing like having a lot of people stare at you while you finish your dinner."

This left Edward, Bella and Josh at the table. She was glad.

Lifting her eyebrows at Edward, he mirrored the expression. "Sorry," she mumbled, and then they both smiled and chuckled.

"Catpin," Joshua announced. He was looking at a smear of mustard and ketchup down his shirt.

Bella's forehead crinkled. "What do you need, sweetie?"

"Catpin," Josh repeated. He looked at the table.

"Here's your napkin." Edward said. He held one of the white squares out to him.

"Catpin!" Josh said, taking it and trying to wipe at the colorful blob.

Huh, Bella thought.

"Napkin," Edward repeated to Josh.

Josh's brow furrowed, and his mouth worked, trying to form the right syllable. "M—" He stopped, pouting.

Edward smiled at him. "That's a hard one. It's okay. I understand you."

Josh looked relieved, and went back to his squishy burger.

"He's talking more-using more words," Bella said, pleased.

"He is," Edward agreed.

"And I don't think it's any coincidence that it's happening more because he's with you more often."

"Hmm," Edward said, thinking this over. "If you go back to work in the fall, would you let him stay with me, instead of going to daycare?"

Bella blinked, mildly stunned. She lowered her voice. "You'd be okay with that?"

"I know you'll be safe," Edward said quietly. "And I don't want our family's lives on hold because of . . . other circumstances."

She knew what this was costing him. He hated being away from her, but if he was with Josh, it would mean Josh would start to talk more. And continue to bond with the man who was going to be his father, in the ways that counted.

"Having you with him instead of at daycare would be amazing."

"Good," Edward said, and then reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"All done!" Josh announced, wiping his hands on his swim shirt. He looked hopefully at the kiddie pool Charlie had set up in the backyard, and the small slide.

"Go for it, kiddo!" Bella said.

He was off like a shot.

Since Mer had eaten quickly and then gone back to the deluxe set of crayons and a stack of paper Sue had provided at the dining room table, Bella foresaw prying her little fingers from them to get to her leave later in the evening. For now, her budding artist seemed content to amuse herself with creating her small masterpieces, especially when each of the grown-ups had taken the time to compliment her as they wandered by.

Seth and his wife had retreated to the lounge chairs by the back door, so Camille could nurse the baby in a bit more comfort. With Charlie and Sue still in the kitchen, this left Bella and Edward relatively alone in the yard.

"There's going to be a tiny bit of sunlight in a few minutes," Edward said quietly. "We can go inside, or perhaps you want to go lurk in the shade with me?"

Alice must have warned him, she realized. Wanting to avoid the stuffiness of the house, and more of Charlie's dark looks, Bella said, "Lurking in the shade sounds lovely."

Edward grinned, standing and holding out his hand. They walked the perimeter of the yard, coming to a wide pool of darkness provided by a towering fir tree. This left Bella facing the house, and Edward the forest.

It was, Bella recognized with a lurch, the beginning of the path they'd last walked when he left her.

"You remember," Edward said. It was not a question. He still hadn't let go of her hand.

"Yes." She really wished she didn't. That memory, and the fear that he could do exactly the same thing, no matter how irrational the thought seemed now, made her heart beat skitter and skip.

"I've apologized for that several times, and I know you've asked me to stop saying it, so I won't repeat myself."

Good, she thought. She just wished she could as easily stomp out the worry that he might leave.

He'd been holding her right hand, and now he took her left. "I've also told you that I wished I'd done something very different that day."

She searched her memories, struggling to find the one to which he was referring, but came up blank. The promised sunlight suddenly illuminated the wide space of the yard, and she wished her mind would be so brightened. Still, nothing.

"And I've told you that I didn't plan on asking you to marry me the way I did."

Oh. The memory clicked.

"I think I mentioned something about dinner." He looked back briefly to where they'd been sitting.

Bella chuckled and smiled. "Yes, we've definitely had dinner. Not at all cliché."

"Not cliché at all," he agreed, as an almost shy smile curved up his cheeks.

He didn't kneel. She suspected he didn't want to draw attention from their few onlookers. Instead, he held out his palm, in which sat a ring. The large oval of pavé diamonds was dull away from the sunlight, but the design was intriguing. "Will you marry me, Bella? And wear my ring?"

She didn't trust her voice not to crack, so she nodded instead. A fragrant mix of warm fir, spruce and cedar spiced the air around them as they kissed, obscuring and redeeming the scent's dark reminders as she created a new memory with the man she loved. Edward's fingers slipped the ring onto her finger easily. It fit perfectly, the lacy pattern of fine diamonds glimmering gently in the shade. Like Edward did, she mused, smiling at this similarity.

When Edward pulled away, he whispered, "People are starting to get curious. We should go back."

As Bella was about to move, Edward stopped her.

"Do you want to take it off for now? I know you said you didn't want to say anything tonight."

No, she wanted to announce it to the world. Edward Cullen wanted to marry her so much that he'd asked twice.

"Well, we're already together, and considering it's probably Sue or Dad who's going to have the heart attack, at least you know CPR."

He laughed, and they walked back together, following a path they'd already begun and completing the circle that had been broken ten years ago in the woods.

* * *

Author's post-script: Folks, if you want the next chronological chapter, go to "A Perfect Metaphor: Outtakes", which is a chapter I wrote for a fundraiser, and is entitled, "The Meadow".

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	38. News

A/N for 2019-10-20: It usually takes several pairs of eyes to spot plausibility and plot holes. I am most fortunate with my beta, Eeyorefan12, who is not only eagled-eyed in this regard, but also very good at then fixing the plot and character difficulties I create. Thank you.

I'm still working on posting every two-weeks, but will shorten up the posting cycle as soon as the demands of real life permit.

~ Erin

* * *

"You have a claim to fame," Edward said, holding out his phone.

"What?" Bella looked up from her breakfast.

"Look." He lifted his chin towards the phone.

She took it, scrolling through the article from The Vancouver Sun. It was about a student who'd written an award-winning essay on micro-climates and native species—

"Chelsea!" She exclaimed.

Edward grinned and nodded.

"How do I get a claim to fame on this?" She asked a little nervously, scanning the article for mention of her name.

"You were her English teacher."

She laughed, realizing there was no reference to her in the article. "For what, like two months?"

"I'm sure you were the capstone of influence on her writing." His airy tone almost disguised his gentle teasing.

Bella shook her head, but with a smile. "Good for her."

"Yes," Edward agreed.

Then another thought slipped in behind the good ones she was having. "Why're you reading the Vancouver News?"

His smile disappeared as he glanced towards the living room, confirming that the children were playing with Esme and Carlisle, before lowering his voice to answer her. "There are some . . . developments we're keeping our eyes on."

The image of Grant's face from Victoria's photograph ran, unwelcome, across her consciousness. Her appetite disappeared, and she put her spoon down. "What kind of developments?"

Edward frowned at her barely-touched breakfast, his features softening as he brought his gaze back to her face. "The kind I really don't want you to worry or even think about."

"Too late." Her words were clipped, her tone communicating her intolerance for any kind of subterfuge. "Tell me."

"Some people have gone missing in unusual circumstances."

Her stomach sank. This was because of her. Because of them. She could feel herself giving in to self-recrimination, wondering if Edward's thoughts matched her own as he sat silently watching her from across the table. Then another horrified realization struck her. "If they're making the news—"

"It's alright," Edward said. "It doesn't appear that the Volturi have noticed."

Her breathing slowed, but only fractionally. She felt abruptly hot.

Edward was beside her suddenly, a cooling hand on her cheek. "And this is why I didn't tell you." He scooped her up, carrying her upstairs out of sight of the children.

Her body felt frozen and stiff, heart pounding. "No," she said, as they reached the door to their room, "put me down."

"I will," he assured her.

"No, now," she said, pushing at his arms.

His frown deepened, but he set her on her feet, where she wobbled for a bit before regaining her balance.

"Please lie down," he said, his voice coloured with worry.

"No. You've been keeping things from me. This is so not okay, Edward. You did this before and—"

"I can_ hear_ your blood pressure going up because of what I've just told you. Please—lie down," he asked again.

"No more hiding things," she growled. "I am not a kid—" But her vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness confused where up and down were. When they righted themselves, she was lying in their bed, feet propped up on pillows, trying to smother the urge to vomit.

She wanted to punch something she was so angry. She smashed a fist into the duvet, letting loose several colourful words. When Edward held out his phone this time, she was surprised to hear Anita's voice on the other end.

"Bella?"

"Hi," she snapped.

"Edward says you've had another high blood-pressure reading at home?"

She glared at Edward, but he nodded toward her abdomen before meeting her gaze. His expression was apologetic, but she recognized the determined set of his mouth.

Letting out a pent-up breath, Bella sighed, "Yes."

Then Anita launched into a lecture on the importance of rest, drinking plenty of fluids, and not eating anything with salt in it.

Bella snorted at this last comment. She hadn't so much as seen or tasted a speck of that particular seasoning since her last appointment. Edward had been beyond rigorous in ensuring even the barest trace of savouriness had been eliminated from all her food.

"Sure," she said, the anger waning and a weary sense of defeat replacing it as she ended the call. She handed the phone back to Edward.

He hovered, sitting uneasily on the edge of the bed.

"I know you don't want me to keep things from you, Bella—"

"I understand," she said. "I do." She looked at the slightly-rounded curve of her belly. He was trying to protect her and her baby. She just hated that it meant keeping her in the dark.

And she hated that she was acting like a brat over it. "I'm sorry," she said. "I get why you're being so . . . circumspect."

"Stress is harmful for you right now," he said gently.

"I know." She really did. "But you'll tell me if I need to know something, right?"

"Of course." His face was still creased with worry. She wondered what was going on in his head—what things he believed she didn't need to know. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude. He was doing his best, carrying burdens he thought were too heavy for her right now, and she really wished there was a way for her to to help at least a little bit. Maybe she could start by letting this current argument go.

Josh's high-pitched voice carried upstairs. "Man?"

"I think you've been requested," Bella said gently, putting her hand over his.

"Do you need anything?" Edward asked, standing up.

"My phone and some water," she said, sighing. She knew it would take a few hours for her body to calm down enough for her to be able to be out of bed again. If she read, there was a chance she'd fall asleep, which would also help.

"Sure," Edward said, starting to pull away.

"Wait," Bella said. "Just how long have you been worried and watching the news?"

Edward eyed her cautiously, his gaze raking over her form, as if he could assess what kind of impact his words would have. "We've never stopped. Not since we came back."

Since last fall. They'd been monitoring mysterious disappearances since they'd come back last fall. She tried not to let the shock of this show in her face, and nodded, watching him disappear. He returned just as quickly, putting the water and the phone down on the nightstand.

"I'm good," she told him. It was an absolute lie, but she didn't need him hovering, or Josh coming to find him and then her, when she needed to rest.

If the Cullens had been watching for so long, that meant they were being more than cautious. She thought of all the times she'd seen laptops and newspapers scattered over the Cullens' dining room table at the Vancouver home. She had never really asked what they were looking for, nor had information been volunteered, but now she realized that there had been more worrying events. It also meant that these 'developments' hadn't come to the Volturi's notice. That could be good, or it could mean that there was a higher likelihood of the Volturi discovering them soon.

She shook her head. There was no point in worrying. It would accomplish nothing but wear on her body.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. "I'm sorry, little one," she murmured. There was the tell-tale flutter inside, not yet perceptible to her hand, but the knowledge that the baby was moving made her relax a little.

For all the angry resentment she had for her pointless treatment for psychosis, she also had the benefit of the techniques the therapy had provided. When her fears had been overwhelming, her counsellors and psychiatrists had reminded her that she couldn't always control what happened around her, but that she could control what she did in response to those things. So now she practised what they'd taught her, purposefully tensing and relaxing each part of her body, knowing that she had no control over what others did, but that she did over her muscles and nerves. It helped a little, and she moved on to the deep breathing exercises.

Mildly relaxed, Bella unlocked her phone and scrolled through the weather and local news, carefully avoiding any sites that were sourced north of the border. Then she wandered into her email, noticing only one unread from yesterday. She tapped the link, not recognizing the address.

Her body tensed again, heartbeat rising. There were only two words in the email, which perched above a photo from a newspaper, showing two people reported missing. The text read: "Anytime." It was signed, "Victoria."

Momentarily panicked, she moved the e-mail to her saved items quickly and clicked her phone off.

Edward was standing beside her, frowning fiercely.

"Sorry," she said guiltily, figuring Alice had seen this and alerted him. The thought actually brought her a bit of relief. It would be out of her hands now.

"What are you reading and seeing that is making your blood pressure jump like that?" He looked accusingly at her phone.

He didn't know? "The . . . uh, news?" she supplied in a meek voice. Had she really just lied to him?

Edward closed his eyes. His face looked pained.

"Come lie down with me?" she asked. She really did want him to, just not for the reasons he suspected.

"Of course."

She rolled onto her other side and buried her face in his shirt, wanting to keep her expression private. His hands made equally private patterns over her back, and she lost herself in trying to predict the trails of his fingers as they moved and massaged lightly.

As her breathing slowed, she let her mind wander back to the email. The voice inside her head was telling her that this was not something she should or could keep hidden. Her knee-jerk response had probably just been a result of her shock, right? She wondered why Alice hadn't seen the message coming to her. Was it because nothing would change because of it? Did that mean she wasn't really in danger for now? Victoria clearly still had access to Bella's personal information and so, yes, that was something the Cullens needed to know—but Victoria's ability to track her had never really been in doubt since this all began.

Right now, Edward's ministrations were making Bella so relaxed that the shock of the message was melting away. She had to tell him, she knew she did. Still, the image of his worried expression just a few minutes before made her hesitate. It wasn't like the email had just come in . . . it had been sitting in her inbox for a while. Alice hadn't seen it. Victoria was being bold, but she had been before; the myriad dead ends they had investigated were testament to that. Most importantly, Edward deserved a few moments of respite. She could give that to him. She would tell him, she resolved, but a little later. Maybe tonight. Or even tomorrow . . .

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was Pavlovian habit to reach for it, but Edward's pointed look stopped her.

He reached in her place, glancing at the screen as he passed it to her. "Your dad."

Bella's lips tightened. It was another knee-jerk response to want to criticize him for screening the world from her, but a flutter of guilt in her chest reminded her of her own hypocrisy in that regard. He wasn't trying to be paternalistic for the sake of it, he was just . . . being paternalistic in an attempt to protect her. Just like she was trying to protect him from further worry.

She huffed out a frustrated breath.

"That's not your normal reaction to your dad," Edward observed with amusement.

"No, it's . . . I know you're acting in my best interests, I'm just—"

"Angry and frustrated at being coddled. I'm aware." There was still a hint of a smirk on his face.

It was enough to make her shake her head and laugh a little, but only a little. "It's difficult." It truly did remind her of her time in the psychiatric ward. All her freedoms kept from her. All decisions dependent on the approval of her doctors. "I don't want to be protected that way. I want to know you have confidence in your ability to support me, not manage me. Not be paternalistic."

His smile blossomed, and he kissed her lightly on her lips. "I think it's safe to say I have no interest in being paternalistic towards you, but perhaps your father does." He inclined his head towards the phone.

"He wants to visit today," Bella said, reading the text. It'd been a few days since the barbeque, and Charlie was asking if he could drop by to see her and the kids.

"Hmm," Edward said, nuzzling her neck.

"It would be nice," she murmured, enjoying the sensation. It was very pleasantly distracting, although perhaps not as calming as she needed right now. When his lips reached her collarbone she breathed out, "What are you doing?"

"Not being paternalistic," he murmured, continuing to make the point. She closed her eyes and let a small moan escape. His mouth and hands were magical.

"Man?" Josh called from downstairs.

Bella heard Carlisle's voice urging her son away from the stairwell.

She and Edward both sighed as he reluctantly stopped his tantalizing exploration and sat up. Josh would not be distracted for long. She texted Charlie back, telling him it would be great to see him.

She needed to tell him about the engagement.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, stop thinking about it," Edward warned her.

"I need to tell him," Bella said, glancing at her ring. She'd taken it off at Charlie's after Edward had proposed, deciding that announcing their engagement in front of Seth might be awkward. She still wondered how she would share the news with Charlie.

"_We_ need to tell him," Edward said, interrupting her thinking.

She went to sit up, and he put a hand on her shoulder, warning her to stay prone. She reluctantly put her head back on the pillow.

"You still don't want to," Edward said softly.

No, she didn't want to tell her Dad about their engagement. But being able to worry about it was a nice distraction from other things.

"I . . . no," she finally said. "I don't think he's going to take it well, but if he found out we hadn't told him, it would be really hurtful. I know he's going to have a hard time hearing it, but he will come around. I just—"

"Everything will be fine, Bella."

"You can't possibly know that—" Then she stopped to consider that he possibly could. "Wait, has Alice—?"

"No, I simply have faith in your father. He loves you, even if he still holds a grudge against me. He knows you love me, and he also knows that I'll take care of you. He's impressed that I got you to take time off work."

"He thinks you got me to take time off work?" The pitch of her voice communicated the affront she felt.

"If I could, I would correct that unspoken assumption, but I think it might lift some eyebrows."

"That is so not fair." Despite her inner grumble of discontent, she knew he was right.

It was still irksome.

"But if your dad is coming, and you want to share that news, you should rest for now."

"Yes, Doctor Cullen." She levelled a dark gaze at him, but then softened her look when he leaned in to kiss her.

"You're my worst patient ever," he murmured.

The kiss ended abruptly with her irreverent laugh. "All your female patients are probably too dazzled by you to be anything but good," she groused.

"I admit nothing." he said with a wink.

By the time Charlie's car came crunching down the driveway, Bella had felt well enough to be up and about for a few hours. And by up and about, that meant she'd sat in the living room, and then outside on a lawn chair while the kids played in the pool Emmett had set up on the lawn. Emmett had proposed installing an actual full-sized, inflatable pool, but Bella had refused. Too many worries about Josh finding his way into its depths and not coming out of it alive had plagued her, despite knowing that he would never ever be left unattended.

"Just humour the pregnant lady her worries, okay?" She'd told Emmett.

He'd rolled his eyes and pointed at Edward, "Like that guy would let me do anything but."

"Damn straight," Edward had quipped, parroting Emmett's favorite phrase.

The children were just as happy with the much smaller and shallower pool that sat on the grass. Now, she deliberately avoided letting her mind wander and instead spent her time watching Edward interact with them, convinced that giving him a carefree afternoon had been the right thing to do.

The kids greeted their grandfather and Sue with wet hugs. Bella hadn't anticipated her coming along too. With her arrival, Bella was half-expecting to see Seth or Leah pop out of the back of the car.

Sue's presence was a huge statement of trust.

Or reconciliation. Maybe.

"No, no," Charlie said, watching Bella lean forward as if to stand. "You sit." He bent down and gave her a damp hug. Sue approached much more carefully, arms folded, but a friendly-enough smile on her face.

"Hi, Sue," Bella tried cautiously.

"Hi, Bella," Sue nodded back.

"What, you two don't hug anymore?" Charlie quipped, sitting in the chair by Bella.

Sue bent over her, giving Bella an awkward and very brief hug. She looked relieved when Mer called her over to the pool, and away from Edward.

"It's nice to have you here," Edward said.

Charlie waved away his offer of food and drink, and they all watched the children at play.

Then Bella cleared her throat, deciding she might as well bite the bullet and get on with it. A direct approach seemed best. "I'm glad you came. I was worried your prejudices might keep you away."

Charlie's eyebrows met his hairline. "Not pulling any punches today, are you?" Then he turned to Edward and said, "Actually, maybe I will take you up on that offer of coffee."

Edward looked to Bella first, who nodded. His hand brushed her shoulder briefly before he walked away. She'd wait for him to come back before dropping the news, but she wanted to clear the air with Charlie before then.

"I'm trying, Bella," Charlie said.

"I know. Just thought I'd give you a realistic picture of where you are in terms of moving from bitter and begrudging acceptance to actual tolerance or, heaven forbid, kindness."

Charlie snorted.

"See?"

"I'm not being bitter and begrudging." Then he scowled, catching sight of Edward returning with two cups of coffee

"Oh no, you're the picture of joyful welcome," she muttered under her breath.

"Thank you very much, Edward," Charlie said politely, taking a mug from Edward and eyeing Bella meaningfully.

Edward had taken hold of Bella's hand again, squeezing it in reassurance. She looked at him, and he lifted his eyebrows in inquiry. She took a deep breath.

"I'm also glad you came, Dad, because we have some news for you."

Charlie's hand jerked, nearly spilling his coffee.

Bella flinched internally, biting her lip. Shit. Those were the exact words she'd used to start the very same conversation with him about Matt.

She'd been pregnant then too. Of course, Charlie had looked well past that fact and expressed his genuine happiness for her and Matt, whom he'd adored from day one.

Now Charlie looked at her left hand, which was bare again. She hadn't wanted to tip him off before having this crucial conversation.

"We're engaged," Edward said, just as she'd begun to open her mouth. "We've told Mer and Josh, and we're excited to tell you too."

Charlie glared at him, grinding his teeth together. After his mouth worked at a few shapes, he said, "And how do they feel about that?"

"They're really happy, and so am I," Bella said, hoping her father could be too.

"Then I'm happy for you," Charlie said, and leaned over and gave her a gentle but genuine hug.

In a move that left her stunned, he then stood and extended a hand to Edward, "Congratulations," he said solemnly.

Edward gave him a polite, but sincere, "Thank you." He transferred the cup of coffee he'd been holding to his other hand so he could return Charlie's handshake.

Bella snapped her open jaw shut, and stared. She wasn't sure if she was more impressed by Edward's subterfuge or Charlie's apparent change of heart.

"Do you want to tell Sue, or may I?" Charlie asked her.

"Uh, why don't you?" Bella managed.

Charlie looked at her left hand a second time and much more pointedly.

With a blush, Bella pulled the ring out of her pocket. "I wanted to tell you first," she mumbled.

"It's beautiful," Charlie said gently. He looked to Edward, "It looks old."

"It was my mother's," Edward explained. "My birth mother—a family heirloom."

This seemed to command some respect from Charlie, and he nodded. "I'm sure Sue will do a much better job of oohing and awing all over it."

Charlie stood up and walked towards Sue.

Despite how unexpectedly-well telling him had gone, Bella wrestled with very real anxiety for the reaction this would produce in Sue. She watched the other woman's posture stiffen, a forced-smile making its way across her mouth.

The unnatural expression looked even more so by the time she reached Edward and Bella. She made no moves beyond her words, offering strained congratulations, and then hurrying back to Mer and Josh.

Bella looked sideways at Edward, who shrugged in a very human gesture. It was better than Sue having a heart-attack, she supposed.

"So, you picked a date?" Charlie asked.

"In the fall," Bella said. "Nothing big. Except me."

Charlie laughed.

She enjoyed hearing it.

"You seem happy," he added more softly, watching Edward slip away to tend to Josh, who was flapping his hands—the beginning of some sort of large frustration. "And Edward is good with the kids. Must be his doctor training."

Bella's throat tightened with feeling. He really was making an effort. Dipping her head forward, she let her hair screen the expression on her face.

"I will be there for you, no matter what," Charlie said, his warm hand finding hers. "Even if it means making nice with Edward."

Now she chuckled, wiping at the surprising tears that wetted her cheeks.

They slipped into safer topics of conversation, Edward, and then Sue finally joining them as the children played nearby, making not the easiest of company, but a company of people she loved.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	39. Frustrations vented

A/N for 2019-10-27: Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her marvelous beta-ing.

A quick note about Bella's pregnancy: someone commented that it seemed to be going on forever. I can guarantee you that every pregnant woman also feels this way about their pregnancy, especially towards the end. In the story, Bella is about five months pregnant (July, 2015). She is due in early November in this story.

Cheers,

Erin

* * *

"NO!" Josh shrieked, "No potty!" His angry shove almost caught Bella in the face, but Edward's quick hand redirected the blow.

"Gentle," Edward reprimanded Josh.

He was answered with a growl, and then a pouting demand: "Diaper!" Josh grabbed the pull-up from the counter and struggled into it.

"Okay," Bella sighed, looking at the toilet and insert they'd put on top of it. "I think maybe it's a bit early for this."

Edward shook his head, tapping his temple. "Trust me, ready. The . . . uh, logistics are just confusing for him."

They were standing in the upstairs bathroom, where Josh now huddled in the corner, obviously relieving himself in the pull-up.

Emmett cast a large shadow in the doorway. "What do you guys expect? You're asking him to pee like a girl."

Edward arched an eyebrow at him. "And what do you propose? Demonstrating how to do that standing up?"

Bella wondered not-so-idly if Charlie would be willing to help on this front.

"Challenge accepted," Emmett said, pointing a finger at Edward and waggling his eyebrows. Then he turned and sauntered away. "Back in a bit."

Edward suddenly laughed out loud, watching his brother disappear.

"What?" Bella asked, eyes still on Josh, who was bouncing up and down with his sloshy diaper.

Still laughing, Edward picked Josh up and put him on the toilet, snapping off the pull-up and cleaning him up. "I'll let Emmett show you. In the meantime, let's go find you some juice, Josh."

"Juice!" Josh squealed. It wasn't a regular feature of his diet, and Bella's eyes widened.

"Why—?" she started.

"You'll see why. Don't worry, I'll deal with any errant effects. I promise."

"Oh-kay," she mouthed. It was his funeral, she thought. Or not. She always avoided giving Josh sugar, but had become even more careful lately, as his behaviour became so much more unpredictable with it.

After watching Josh down not just one, but three cups of lemonade, Bella had an inkling of Edward's intentions. The two of them had played a game of chase in the yard and she was watching Josh squirm, trying to deny his need to pee. Finally, he'd had enough and made a beeline for Bella with an urgent, "Diaper!"

"Let's go inside," Edward said, herding him towards the door.

Bella followed, curious to see what plans had been set afoot.

"Let's go pee like big boys," Emmett said from the doorway, "C'mon."

It was Bella's turn to arch an eyebrow at Edward.

As Josh followed Emmett to the main floor bathroom, Edward leaned over and whispered to her, "A bag of saline, yellow food colouring, and surgical tubing."

She stifled her laugh with a hand to her mouth, not wanting to distract Josh. Standing just outside the bathroom door, she heard a stream of liquid make its distinct landing in the toilet.

"Your turn!" Emmett said.

Bella leaned forward eagerly. She gasped when she heard the same sound softly repeat and conclude with a flushing toilet.

"And now we wash our hands," Emmett instructed.

Josh and Emmett high-fived each other on the way out.

As Josh ran off to play, Emmett pretended to mist his nails with his breath and then buff them on his shirt. "Parenting-shmarenting," he said glibly, and then winked at Bella as he turned to walk away.

Edward rolled his eyes, but Bella hugged Emmett. "Thank you," she said. "And now that you've proved yourself such an expert, you can take on the number-two training, too."

Emmett's laugh boomed loudly through the hall. "Sorry, I can't steal all your thunder."

"Feel free," Bella sighed, letting go of Emmett and feeling Edward's arms snake around her from behind.

Josh had zipped outside again, where Bella saw Esme's head lift from her gardening work to watch him run over his favourite set of flat stones.

She thought again about how lucky she was to have so much help with her children. She'd felt run off her feet in the few months between Matt's death and Edward's return. The difficult experience was fresh enough to make her feel profound gratitude for such abundant assistance.

Esme stood and joined Josh, following his gaze and talking to him. Bella watched her speak, suspecting she was naming the flower at which Josh was looking.

So lucky.

She'd often wished she and Matt had been blessed with such support. It had been a difficult choice, moving away from the small group of friends they'd made in Seattle, but the job opportunity had been simply too good for him to turn down.

"Do you want to take a nap before we go tonight?" Edward asked.

She sighed. No. But she probably should. Charlie was hosting another BBQ, this one to welcome Leah home for a few weeks holiday. She didn't come home often, and Bella knew it was a fairly big deal for Sue. It also meant that Alice was blind to what the evening would hold for them all. Charlie had extended the invitation to include Jasper and Alice too.

"Yeah, maybe that would be a good idea." She wasn't sure how tense it would be, but she didn't need to pass out in the middle of it. Then again, she considered, perhaps that could provide a simple reason for leaving if things got awkward.

Moving carefully up the stairs, she slipped into their bedroom, and then into the bed. It usually didn't take long for her to go to sleep, at least not when she was pregnant, but her guilty conscience needled; She still hadn't said anything about the email. At first, she hadn't wanted to interrupt the calm that the household was currently enjoying. And Edward—he had been so happy with them all there together that she was seeing more and more glimpses of the boy she had first fallen for—the one who teased and stole kisses and laughed frequently. She dreaded the moment when her words would make the lightness in his eyes dim with disappointment and anxiety again. Still, Alice hadn't seen anything. Perhaps Bella was relying too much on that fact but it was an easy rationalization. So yes, she needed to tell Edward. And she would. Despite her mind's anxiousness, her body was making its own plans. She yawned again, blinking. She would tell him later—after the party. The relief of this decision pulled her deeper into the beginnings of sleep. Later, she thought again. Later.

\- 0 -

He felt more a student of Bella's body than ever before. When she was young, he'd memorized the rhythms of her heart, listening for them and using their timely beats to mark the unbroken rhythm of his own days. Now they were a sound to which he marked the time of his own heart, a dead thing to which she gave life.

Her blood remained as sweet as ever but not so tempting, altered as it was by the hormonal tang of pregnancy. This change did not lessen the precautions he took, but it was something to which he gave a great deal of his attention. He'd discovered that there were subtle variations in her scent when her sugars dropped, and he was certain he was detecting such a drop now.

As they turned onto Charlie's street and drew closer to the house, he became aware of a motley array of thoughts that he hadn't expected to hear. Sifting through them, he understood the true purpose of their summons to Charlie's house.

His future father-in-law had organized a surprise engagement party.

When the car stopped moving, Josh began kicking in his car-seat, straining and whining. His thoughts were clarifying, and Edward let him reach for a word, the syllables finally erupting, as, "Bu-nee," and then an urgent, "BUNNY!"

"Hold on," Bella said, hunching over to rifle through the bag at her feet. She pulled out the iPad Jasper had come home with the week before. He'd thought it might be good in augmenting Josh's ability to communicate, but so far its main purpose had been entertainment. Josh was obsessed with a game that featured a blue bunny—hence the name. Edward had to admit, though, that the occasional distraction it provided could prove helpful.

"Bunny." Josh sighed happily as Bella passed him the iPad.

"Just two minutes, dude, then it goes away," Bella said. It was then she seemed to notice the large number of cars around them.

"So, I'm going to take a shot in the dark and guess that you still don't like surprises?" Edward asked.

She looked sideways at him. "No, why?"

He lowered his voice. "Charlie's organized a surprise party to celebrate our engagement."

She groaned and put her face into her hands. Edward grinned and shook his head. Some things really didn't change.

There was a dire-sounding thwack from the back seat as Josh dropped the iPad.

Bella's quiet "Shit!" slipped out under her breath.

Josh repeated the word immediately—or tried to.

"Sit!"

"It's shit, Josh, not 'sit'," Meredith corrected him with a weary sigh.

Edward held back his laugh, turning instead to Bella. "It's okay," he said, patting her hand once. "Just a thing." He reached behind her and picked up the iPad, checking the screen. There were no cracks. "All good."

Bella let out a breath. She'd already expressed apprehension about having Edward near two members of the pack. She didn't know yet that there would be more, and he didn't want to be the one to tell her.

"We can say you're not feeling well and go home. It isn't like it would be stretching the truth." he offered.

"No," she said, rubbing her face in her hands. "He's really trying if he's done this. We can't, even though I would like to turn tail and run."

Edward chuckled. "Why don't we go for a bit, and if you're not up for staying, we'll head home."

"Okay," she breathed.

"Okay." Then he leaned over to her side, cupping her cheek and bringing their lips together.

There was another moan, but it was softer, and of a quality that spoke of pleasure and a letting go of worry, time, and propriety.

"Eww!" Meredith said from the backseat, choosing this moment to look up from her book. She suddenly noticed that they'd arrived at their destination. "Why are we waiting?"

"So your mother feels alright," Edward supplied, pulling back.

Bella did look marginally improved—her cheeks flushed, her lips full, and her eyes wide with possibilities.

"Better?" Edward asked.

"Very better," she breathed, feathering her fingers through his hair.

"Can we go in now?" Mer whined.

"Yup," Bella said, although her eyes were still focused on Edward's and her hand was now curled around his neck as she appeared to weigh her answer. Finally, she pulled away with a sigh, murmuring "later," quietly under her breath. There seemed more to this word than Edward could currently ascertain, but he tucked his questions away for another time.

Josh flailed happily as Edward unbuckled him, sneaking in a quick tickle at his little ribs. Both the audible and inaudible sounds were delightful to hear with such small joys. He had to hold Josh's hand tightly as they approached the house. Josh was eager to run ahead to his, 'Pa', and Edward didn't want him to rob Charlie of his well-planned moment.

At the door, Bella jumped a little when Charlie called out, "Surprise!"

Edward was impressed by how well Bella imitated the genuine emotion.

Though, as he glanced around, Edward suspected it was more because of the company than the occasion.

He'd texted Alice and Jasper quickly in the car, suggesting they stay away. By scent alone, he knew they were in the presence of many pack members, and beyond that, many more Quileutes. He didn't want to add more vampires to that mix unless absolutely necessary.

So far, the ill feelings came from only a few scattered locations in the house—all of them wolves in human form.

He couldn't say he blamed them.

One set of thoughts was particularly unhappy with the occasion, and if it hadn't been for the tie of kinship and clan, Sam Uley would have kept himself far away. As it was, he was glad his own wife was out of town visiting distant relatives with their children.

But the subtle shifts in scent coming from Bella were more pressing now.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her, between greeting the many people present.

"Not really," she murmured back.

"Maybe you want to go sit down for a bit?" he asked, hoping he wasn't pressing his luck with these less-than-subtle nudges.

"Sure," she said, surprising him, moving towards the backyard. Most people were still inside, and he was glad she could find a quiet moment away from the crowd.

The dining room table was overwhelmed by a variety of pots, plates and platters. Most of it seemed to have originated in the kitchens of the party's guests. Edward chose widely, knowing a few favourites on sight but not wanting to appear too observant or controlling of Bella's appetite.

"What, no fresh meat for you?" a woman's voice called.

He turned around, plate in hand, eyeing the voice's source. She was tall, with the high cheekbones and dark hair of the Quileute. There were other features he recognized too, and he made a guess as to her name. "You must be Leah Clearwater."

"You get that from my amazing good looks or my enticing smell?"

He kept his face carefully neutral. There were too many people nearby to safely have this conversation. "A pleasure to meet you," he said politely, words belying his true feelings. Her hostility towards him was only marginally balanced by her good will towards Bella.

She snorted. "I could barely believe it when mom told me, but you're actually here. You've got some nerve, showing up after what you pulled." Then she dropped her voice even more. "And considering what you are." She took a drink from her wine glass. Her thoughts illustrated, quite specifically, the faults she attributed to him individually, and his kind generally.

"Oh, you two've met. Good." Charlie concluded, coming in suddenly to grab a couple of bags of chips and heading back toward the door. "Would you mind offering Edward something to drink?" He asked Leah, hurriedly moving away with his mind on refilling the snack bowls in the next room.

"Sure," Leah smirked, not moving after he left. She swirled her wine in the glass. "Take your pick of the crowd, tick. I'm sure Sam would be thrilled to have an excuse to vent some of his frustrations."

Her thoughts indicated she didn't join in Sam's level of animosity, though clearly she was a wolf, and part of his pack. They also showed Edward that she knew she had every justification to violently resent him, but didn't.

"I seem to have offended you less than most here," Edward observed, straining the limits of his gift over the party's general noise to hear Bella.

Leah shrugged, burying her nose in her drink.

Edward set aside his curiosity at Leah's interior monologue. It contrasted sharply with her abrasive exterior. He'd ponder those differences later.

His eyes swept over the living and dining rooms. The many children present were darting to and fro like minnows. He caught glances of Meredith and Josh, little legs pumping to keep up with the children who considered this their home turf. Josh's face was already smeared with some sugary residue, but his thoughts were happy ones. They were safe enough to let run loose for now.

Another mind had collected a view of Bella, and the focus was not a tender one. Unhappily, Edward recognized the voice that was silent to all but him, and he tensed.

Sam Uley had cornered Bella, and now her heart-rate was rising along with her blood pressure.

"Excuse me," Edward said, nodding and moving away from the table.

"Yeah, better get back before she thinks you've left again," Leah quipped, watching him walk away, but there was no real venom to her words.

Charlie stopped him halfway to the door, introducing him to yet more people—distant cousins of the Clearwaters, now all but family to Charlie and soon, Charlie reminded him, family to him. He listened half-heartedly to the notions of kinship that his future father-in-law's mind mulled over, the greater part of his attention still focused on Bella, whose body was now showing clear signs of distress.

"Very nice to meet you," Edward concluded, but then held up the plate of food for Charlie to see. "Let me get this to Bella."

"Right," Charlie said, patting Edward on the back.

If his need to get to Bella weren't so urgent, he would've paused to wonder at the familiar gesture. The man loved his daughter, and he was doing his best to overcome all the well-earned prejudices he'd acquired for Edward.

Bella's face was a dangerous shade of red by the time he reached her. That alone was enough to alarm him, but it was Sam's intentions that distressed him more.

"If you want someone to blame, then look at him. He's the one who gave us the idea." Sam's finger pointed to Edward.

He nearly crushed the plate in his hands as Sam's memory assaulted him with images of the last time the two of them had met face to face.

By the treaty terms, the Olympic coven was required to formally notify—and ideally meet—with the Quileute's chief whenever they left, or returned to the area.

The Cullens had honoured this term at Carlisle's insistence when they had left ten years before, despite Edward's wish to leave quickly and without what he considered unnecessary ceremony. He and Carlisle had been surprised when it was Sam Uley who'd turned up with Billy Black. They hadn't known there was a wolf to meet with. New to both his role as chief and his nature, Sam had been angry beyond measure at the change he was convinced Cullens' presence had wrought in his life. Now, Edward found himself quickly recalling the conversation, running through what had been said that day in the forest.

_"And now that you've brought trouble to our people, you're up and leaving?"_

_"To what trouble do you refer?" Carlisle asked, his brow furrowing at the suggestion._

_"Your presence triggers our change," Sam spat out._

_Carlisle paused, heart full of compassion for the distress he'd seen on the young man's face. "I see, and I'm so very sorry." His thoughts, Edward could tell, were at odds with his words. He wasn't sure their proximity was the cause, but he was curious—a curiosity he knew he needed to shelve for the moment_

_"You're sorry?" Sam asked incredulously, beginning to tremble with rage. _

_Billy put a hand on Sam's arm. "They're leaving," he reminded him. "Let's talk and be done."_

_Sam snorted. "Sure they're leaving, now that they've screwed up peoples' lives and don't even care. And they're leaving behind a girl who knows what they are, and apparently, what we are." He looked at Billy with raised eyebrows, but the man only shrugged, as though it couldn't be helped. Apparently, they knew Billy's son had already told Bella the tribe's history, although Edward knew Bella had only really grasped the truth of part of the story. _

_"She won't say anything." Edward was offended on Bella's behalf by Sam's intimation._

_"And if she does? it won't be your problem. It'll be my problem." His resentment was beyond palpable._

_"It won't happen." Edward's lips practically bit out the words. The fury in Sam's mind and the images that accompanied it were growing increasingly intolerable to him._

_"You seem to have a lot of faith in a girl you're abandoning. And why, exactly, are you leaving her?"_

_Edward knew his hesitation was brief but noticeable. Still, the thought of having to share any information with them grated. Finally, he chose to answer with a question of his own, "Would you prefer we stayed in her life?" _

_"No." Billy spoke up. "You're doing the right thing." There was a flare of panic at the idea of them remaining._

_"They're ditching us with a mess," Sam insisted. "How is this them honouring the treaty?"_

_Billy began murmuring quietly to Sam, trying to calm and reassure him, but the effort was wasted on the pack leader, who was mentally working on his own solutions. _

_"No," he said to Billy. "We've already paid for their presence alone. If she's a problem—"_

_"Bella's not a problem," Billy insisted. Edward was relieved to hear the genuine care in his thoughts, and then the man's resolve to make sure Bella wouldn't be a problem in the future, either. There was a painful lurch in Edward's already-hollow midsection, understanding what—or who—Billy thought would tether Bella's loyalty to their tribe._

_This is why you're leaving, Edward told himself, so she can have a life—a normal human life._

_Sam only glowered at Carlisle and Edward. In his mind, he'd already suffered for their presence._

_"She's loyal to a fault," Edward said more to Billy than to Sam. He was so certain that his leaving would keep her safe, but how could he go without being sure she was safe from the fear Sam was harboring? "She won't betray us, and she wouldn't betray you. She might have heard your stories, but she still thinks they're just that." He hesitated before forcing out his next words. "We're the only monsters she thinks are real." He could hear the bitterness in his own words._

_"See?" Billy said. His voice didn't betray it, but his body had been taut with anxiety. He feared Sam's youth and impetuousness._

_Sam had no problem thinking of Edward and his family as monsters. Surprisingly, he considered the words that had been laid before him before speaking again. "And if she does talk, what do you suggest we do?"_

_Ever their stony selves, Carlisle and Edward had stood still through most of this conversation. It didn't do to risk provoking a wolf—and a young one at that. Now Carlisle's head turned almost imperceptibly to Edward._

_Well? Carlisle asked silently. Edward could hear the sadness and even the mild reproach in his father's thoughts but his worry for his son was also clear. This was your choice, Edward. You decide._

_He nodded once, accepting both the responsibility and the rebuke. "We're the stuff of legends," Edward finally whispered. "I don't think anyone would believe her."_

_Marginally calmer, Sam had pondered his words, pulling at the threads of possibility that sprang from this vague answer. Then he nodded, concluding the most difficult part of the discussion._

_Carlisle__ drew the conversation back to more practical matters. "I've left our contact information in a file at the hospital, if urgent need arises." He'd treated one of the wolves in their time there. It had been a bad injury, one beyond the skills of the tribe to manage, and not safe for the other doctor in town to see. Sam scoffed aloud at the idea they would ever voluntarily contact the Cullens, but Billy nodded in acknowledgement. _

Bella's voice snapped Edward back to the present, where he stood, motionless, her plate of food still in his hand.

"Is that true?" She sounded so young and broken that it reminded him of the night in the woods when he had shattered both of their worlds. The bewilderment in her gaze did the same, as he realized the question was directed at him. "You told them to say I was insane?"

"Doesn't feel so good to have people mess up your life, does it, Cullen?" Sam asked him, lip curling with satisfaction.

Bella didn't seem to even register these bitter words, staring at Edward, her expression twisted with disbelief and betrayal. He focused harder on Sam's thoughts, trying to read past the man's gloating triumph and identify exactly what he had said to Bella.

But Charlie had noticed the tense exchange between Sam and the guests of honour.

"I was sorry to hear Emily was out of town," Charlie said, coming over to join them. Sue followed close behind, her widened eyes and thoughts revealing vibrant and valid worries. Sam was still a hothead, and she'd hoped when he'd accepted the invitation, that he would come and go quickly.

"Yeah, she's out of town. Too bad," Sam said, tone clearly insincere.

Charlie's eyebrows puckered, hearing this, but his concern for Bella overrode his confusion. He bent down to Bella, speaking softly. "You okay?"

She swallowed, trying to lift the corners of her mouth to allay his concern.

"We were just talking about how surprised we all are that Edward bothered to come back after all this time," Sam offered, looking directly at Charlie. He considered Bella's father a turncoat, and Sue cut from the same cloth. "Especially after we told the Cullens how badly Bella had taken his leaving, right, Sue? You remember helping me get their contact information, don't you?"

Charlie's eyes widened, as he turned back to the woman he was all but married to. "Pardon?" he asked Sam, staring at Sue.

"I said, I'm surprised Edward didn't come running back after he found out how badly Bella was doing. I guess he didn't care as much then." He rolled his eyes and looked at Bella's left hand, which was tight and white, gripping the arm of the chair she was in, the ring on her finger drawing his gaze like a beacon.

Charlie's heart had begun to race, but his face paled, pure shock obscuring most of his thoughts. Still, Edward could make out the betrayal he was feeling. Charlie continued staring at Sue, who was now shaking her head, opening and closing her mouth, wanting to deny this grossly-twisted truth but too aware that she was standing next to the leader of the wolf pack.

Charlie's mind was full of memories from that painful time in his and Bella's life: images of the hospital, and the desperate phone calls he'd made once, and again over time, trying to find the Cullens. There were memories of Sue as well, comforting him in his helplessness and desperation even as he comforted her after Harry's death.

WIth a pang, Edward now registered Charlie's shock at what he saw as Sue's complete betrayal.

Charlie muttered a quiet, "Excuse me," and then walked away. His mind was still struggling for some excuse for Sue, but it could find none.

Sue trailed after him, a soft and broken, "Charlie?" on her lips.

Bella's father pulled away from the hand Sue tried to lay on his arm.

Bella looked as shocked as her father, and before Edward could say anything, she tried to stand, seemingly to imitate the exit her father had made, and then promptly collapsed.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	40. The Price of Loyalty

A/N for 2019-11-03: A few of you will wonder about Edward's reference to the meadow in this chapter. There is an outtake that comes between chapter 37 and 38, in which Edward takes Bella and her children to visit the meadow. If you would like to read that part of the story in the near future, you simply need to make a donation to one of the Babies at the Border Charities and send in your receipt (deadline is November 24, 2019). You'll receive a hefty compilation of stories in early December which will include the 'missing' chapter.

~ Erin

* * *

It was Josh's shrieking that pulled her back up the final rungs of consciousness.

Edward's voice reached her next. "Mama's fine, see? She's waking up now."

Josh's panicked "Mama!" alternated with a more distressed, "Dada!" He repeated these two key words, the sound punching into her groggy mind.

The world was skewed. She was on her back, tilted to her left side, legs elevated on a stack of patio chair cushions.

"Hey," she tried, lifting a hand toward Josh.

"Mama!" he said, practically throwing himself on top of her.

"I'm okay," she murmured into his shaking form, but her eyes were locked on Edward's face, his concern not carefully concealed. She looked away from his burning gaze.

A few feet away, Charlie was kneeling with Meredith, his hand on her back, as he spoke softly with her, both their glances darting between each other and Bella.

Bella waved at them both, and saw Meredith's shoulders relax a little. Charlie stood up, lifting his chin towards a few party guests who'd ventured outside, signalling that they should stay inside for now.

"Mama needs to rest for a bit," Edward said to Josh, reaching for him.

"It's okay, let him stay," Bella said. Sam's revelations were a tidal wave, flowing over her. She sucked in a breath, holding in a sob.

Edward had told the wolves to say she was _insane_?

She closed her eyes, burying her face in Josh's hair. It was damp and smelled of cinnamon. His hands were sticky at her neck. The practical part of her mind speculated he was probably going to have a sugar meltdown at any moment. Probably sooner rather than later.

Now another scent reached her—Edward's. It had a sweetness too—spring alders, the resin of warm pine, and the spice of want all wrapped up together.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered, close enough that only she and Josh could hear.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the question, she sought refuge in Josh's curls, but her son, now assured of her well-being, pulled away. Then he was gone, energetic little feet making the paving stones sound hollow with his rapid steps.

She said nothing, keeping her eyes closed, focusing on her breathing. What did Edward expect from her? This was too much. He'd left, and he'd told them to say she was nuts. Hadn't he?

She felt his fingers lightly touch her shoulder but she shrugged them off as she heard him speak again. His voice was still a whisper but more urgent.

"Bella, do you trust me?"

She sucked in another sob but didn't otherwise respond. Trust him? He was asking if she trusted him? She felt lost in her own head, Sam's words playing on an endless loop there. _He's the one who gave us the idea._

Hushed voices reached her—the kind that people used when they were arguing but didn't want people to hear. Something ugly was unfolding between Charlie and Sue.

But Edward's voice eclipsed theirs as he tried another tack. "Do you trust Sam?"

The new question slowed her repetitive thoughts.

Sam?

A memory smacked her in the face: Sam at the hospital, his features convincingly sad as he talked with Charlie and the doctors and nurses. They hadn't believed her. They'd believed Sam. Of course they'd believed Sam. She'd talked about werewolves and vampires and her dead friend—

"Do you trust _Sam_ to tell you the truth about what I said to him?" Edward asked.

She risked opening her eyes to meet his.

Where was Sam? He'd been here, and then Edward had come—

"_Do_ you?" There was urgency in his tone again. She could sense someone else approaching.

What had he asked her? Did she trust Sam?

When Sam had arrived at the hospital at Charlie's beckoning, she'd read in his features where she was in his grand set of priorities. His confirmation of the lie everyone wanted to believe wasn't a surprise—just another truth she hadn't wanted to face. She knew Sam would do anything to keep his tribe safe, and if it meant discarding an outsider's life—and heart—to do so, he would do it.

"No," she breathed out.

Edward's hand curled around hers, and his mouth opened again, but it was Charlie's voice that overrode Edward's.

"Bella, let's get you upstairs."

She knew the tone. It was full-on don't-mess-with-me Charlie Swan. The protective fatherly one.

"Dad, I'm—"

"I'm sure your _doctor_-fiancé here agrees." Charlie said, ignoring her protest and playing his trump card at the same time. "You give me a hand, Edward?"

"I've got her," Edward said, sliding his arms under her.

She started to push him away, not wanting to be further mortified by being carried up the stairs in the middle of this gathering. But Charlie was frowning and Edward's eyes pleaded with her, and she closed her mouth. They were anxious for her, and she wouldn't add to it. Everything was still so confusing and her head was buzzing. What was it they were talking about?

At the door to her former bedroom, Edward paused.

She imagined that he was crossing more than just a physical threshold.

Whatever initially prevented his passage passed, and he stepped into the room and carefully set her on the bed. His silence continued as he rolled and then stuffed a blanket under her feet to elevate them.

No one else had followed them, and Bella felt a bizarre sense of déjà vu, alone with Edward in her adolescent bedroom. There was an ocean of history between then and now, but the location stirred up waves of feeling from that time long past.

And she remembered again why they were up here.

"He said it was your idea," she said. "That you told the pack to say I was . . . that I was—"

"It's not true, Bella."

She nodded at his words, wondering at the sense of relief she felt when she heard them. It felt too easy, somehow. Was he telling her the truth? Or did she just _want _to believe him? There were just so many questions burning in her mind now that the fog had passed, and she searched his concerned face for the answers.

"Why did he say it? Any of it?" she asked softly.

Edward sat on the edge of the bed. "He's angry that we've returned."

This was the first she'd heard of this from Edward. "You knew that. Before today." It was not a question.

"Yes," he said.

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

To his credit, he held her gaze and didn't look away. "I didn't think you needed to hear it." It was hard to dismiss the sincerity in his tone.

"Why not?"

He actually pulled in a breath. "You already had too much on your plate. Your body is stressed. There was nothing that could be done . . ."

Her face flushed. "You promised you wouldn't keep things from me." He _had _promised and now it looked like he had gone back on it. She knew her tone was accusatory, and she meant it to be. Waiting for his apologetic response, she was startled to hear him blow out an exasperated breath instead.

"Do you want to know what _everyone's _thoughts are, Bella? Should I tell you when your Dad thinks your dress is too short or that Sue thinks your couch is an ugly color? How about the fact that your next-door-neighbor has a crush on the UPS driver or one of your co-workers doesn't think it's fair that you have a better parking spot?" Edward seemed to realize that he had raised his voice in frustration and he let out a sigh before continuing more quietly. "I did what I thought was right. I really didn't think it mattered. It wasn't like he'd made any plans—"

"He's angry that we're here. That involves me." She said this with less heat, recognizing that he had a point and that she needed to acknowledge it. It was easy to forget the fact that he could hear _everything. _She wondered, not for the first time, how difficult it must be to sort through it all . . . or ever have a moment's peace.

He closed his eyes briefly, frustration creasing his forehead. "I agree that it does now. There was no need to to distress you before. Now..." His voice trailed off.

Bella sighed softly. "What did he mean by what he said? Was any of it true?"

His lips pressed together tightly as he shook his head. "He twisted everything, and he did it deliberately. He sees Sue as a traitor for supporting Charlie in supporting us. He wants my family—us, gone."

She realized that Sam's resentment of the Cullens wasn't new information, but the depth to which the feeling ran was. She'd chalked up the hostility from him and the pack to their natures, but there was a whole new spin to it now. While Sam hadn't engaged in physical conflict, he was walking a fine line in the war of words he was stirring up. Suddenly, she was grateful that Edward could follow all of this.

"Charlie and Sue?" she asked.

"Your father's asked her to leave."

There was a spasm of pain in her chest for Charlie, and she closed her eyes. "Did she really know how to reach you? And what did Sam mean that he'd talked to you?"

Edward shook his head. "Sue didn't know about the contact information. Only Sam did. Carlisle left it in case they needed our help."

Bella tried to keep her expression steady, but this additional betrayal at Sam's hands made her features twist. He'd known. Sam had known how to reach the Cullens. But Charlie had asked him, she knew he had. When her illness was at its worst,her psychiatrists had asked Charlie to find Edward, or at least one of the Cullens so that they could help Bella confront what they considered her delusions. But Charlie had been unsuccessful, and she remembered his frustration when he told her doctors of his fruitless inquiries. And now he believed Sue had known and kept it from him . . . because of Sam.

She tried to remind herself that Sam was only trying to protect his people . . . but Sue was one of his people, and the sentiment rang hollow. How different might her life have been if Sam had shared the information? All of their lives?

"How are you feeling?" Edward asked, squeezing her hand. "Do you want me to keep talking about this?"

She nodded, swallowing back the tears.

"Carlisle left the contact information hidden inside a tribe member's hospital file. Sam asked Sue to get to the file, but she didn't know what was in it, just that it was important. Sam spoke to Carlisle very briefly, asking one question and saying that you'd not taken our leaving well. Then he hung up. Carlisle told me when I returned to them, but even he didn't know the extent of what you went through. Still, when I heard you were in distress, I came so close, I almost . . . " His voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"You almost what?" she asked.

"I almost came back to you."

"When?"

"Christmas, 2008."

She nodded, swallowing. She'd just met Matt then. "Why didn't you?"

"Alice saw the Volturi coming. When I decided to go to you—it made the outcome even worse than what you were going through."

"Worse, how?"

She was sure she actually heard him swallow. "They'd have killed you, and anyone else they thought might know about us. Your father, the pack and many other Quileutes, certainly."

Bella nodded, reminding herself that they were together now. She focused on his gentle grip on her hand. It helped.

"What's happening with my Dad and Sue?" She asked. It was safer to stay in the present—physically and mentally. She didn't want to dwell on the many supernatural dangers by which her life was bordered.

"She's leaving. Leah's taking her home and will stay with her."

Nodding, Bella thought of Sue and the place she'd had in Charlie's life for almost ten years. Then she thought of her father, and the pain in her heart doubled. "There must be something we can say to tell him Sam lied to make trouble. Charlie knows the Quileutes have always had a grudge against your family. Maybe Sue can—"

"She won't go against Sam, Bella. She'd see it as being disloyal to her tribe."

"But—"

"She'll stick to Sam's story until he tells her not to," Edward said. His voice was gentle, though his words were bitter.

"That's just wrong. There's no need—" Bella said, using her arms to push herself up.

"No, there isn't," Edward said softly, his hand on her shoulder exerting just enough force to keep her where she was. She got the message and allowed herself to lay back against the pillow. Edward's voice quieted and his body stilled just before a knock at the door made them both turn.

"Hey," Charlie said, pushing it open, carrying a glass of water and the plate of food Edward had abandoned. "I thought you might need this."

Bella wanted food like she wanted more stomach-turning revelations. She shook her head and Edward gave Charlie a polite, "Thank you," standing and taking the plate. When he sat back down by Bella, he spoke quietly, but still loudly enough that Charlie would hear, "I really do think you should eat something."

But Bella was looking at her father, who had that carefully-practiced expression on his face, the one that he'd worn so often at the hospital—the one that hid an abyss of grief.

She wanted to tell him everything—to scream it at the top of her lungs, to let him understand the utter folly he'd been party to. But, she knew that if she did, he'd only fall further into his despair, thinking she'd lost her grip on reality again.

She wanted him to have the woman he loved, even if she herself had mixed feelings about Sue. He deserved peace and happiness, and not the misery Sam seemed so keen to spread.

Edward's hand stroked hers, reminding her that both men were waiting for a response.

"Yeah, I probably should eat something," Bella mumbled.

Charlie nodded. "You got a minute, Edward?" he asked.

"Of course," Edward said, eyeing Bella as if to ask if she would 'behave' herself and stay on the bed.

She nodded, and Edward slipped outside the door with her father. Their conversation was held at a low murmur, but the small space let the sound travel easily enough.

"Did I hear Sam correctly?" Charlie asked Edward. "Did he really contact you when she was sick?"

The plate of food sat in her lap, untouched. Bella heard Edward blow out a breath . . . the human mannerism he'd just used with her, although she was sure it was just for show with Charlie.

"Yes, he did, but not in the way he made it sound. He phoned my father about a patient he'd treated. The only thing he said about Bella was that she had taken my leaving badly."

A foot scuffed across the floor. Probably Charlie's. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Charlie, I didn't know anything about Bella's illness then. I was away at medical school but Carlisle told me only what was said. And if I had any idea what she was truly going through, I would never have stayed away."

She supposed there was truth in that.

Charlie grunted. One of his multi-purpose sounds. Maybe an acknowledgement.

"Sam Uley doesn't seem to mean me, or my family well," Edward said softly.

"No, he doesn't," Charlie agreed.

"Or you," Edward pushed, gently. He was trying, Bella realized. For her sake as much as Charlie's.

This was met with a more thoughtful "Hmph."

Then, Charlie cleared his throat and mumbled a bit louder, "I'll be downstairs if you need anything." His shuffling footsteps faded down the creaking stairs, as Edward pushed Bella's door open, returning to lie next to her on the bed.

She closed her eyes and rolled toward him, entwining her arm with Edward's. "Thanks for trying out there. This isn't fair."

"No, it isn't," he agreed.

"Isn't there anything else we can do to make Charlie realize Sue's innocent in all this?"

Edward replied by sliding an arm under her, helping her sit up. He pressed the glass of water into her hand, and then held out the plate. It was not-so-subtle blackmail, and she got the message. Answers in exchange for eating something.

She took the water, sipping slowly, but shook her head at the food. The nausea was in full swing, and a pulsing ache made her forehead throb.

"Food will help," he reminded her. "And I will worry less. The same goes for Charlie, Meredith and Josh."

She picked up a strawberry and nibbled at it. Her taste buds found it acceptable, and she tackled more of what was on the plate. The creases in Edward's face lessened with each bite.

"I don't know if we can do much more to help Sue," Edward said. "Because if we do, we risk endangering the peace with Sam. And it is a fragile one at the moment. He hasn't liked that we've been here off and on, and we don't exactly have ready allies to call upon."

Bella's brow furrowed. "What about your cousins, the Denali's?"

Edward looked down again. "Things have been strained on that front."

"Why?"

"I think you remember Laurent?" Edward asked.

She hissed in a breath and shuddered. "Yes."

Edward's eyes narrowed at her response. "Why that reaction?"

She shivered again. Of course. He wouldn't have known. "He came here, and he found me—"

"What?" Edward's grip on her hand briefly tightened until he seemed to realize it and let his own hand became still as stone.

"I went looking for our meadow, and when I was there—"

"He came after you?" If she hadn't known better, she would've sworn Edward had become a block of granite. "He came after you," he said again. Then he moved suddenly to set the plate aside and pull her into his arms, breathing into her hair. "The wolves killed him because he found you."

"Yes," she managed, feeling crushed by his embrace but not wanting to tell him when he was clearly so upset. She could almost feel him vibrating with emotion. She was a little surprised to know he was aware of Laurent's destruction at the hands of the wolves. She knew she hadn't told him. Or had he just figured it out?

Then he loosened his arms slightly. "Why didn't you tell me this when we visited the meadow? You should have said something. I'm so sorry that happened . . . and that I wasn't there before."

Bella interrupted him by laying a hand over his before there was further self-recrimination on his part. "I didn't say anything, Edward, because you were there with us . . . no one else. I felt safe and I felt loved. I didn't want to let anything intrude on that."

With the edge of his hand, Edward traced a crescent moon down her cheek, as if assuring himself of her presence. Then he just nodded in acknowledgement.

As much as she hated breaking this quiet moment, Bella needed him to continue, "But how did you know what happened to him? And what does Laurent have to do with your cousins?"

Edward sighed and stared straight ahead at nothing. "One of our cousins—Irina—formed an attachment to Laurent. When Sam called, it was to tell Carlisle that they had killed him, and why—at least his version of it, which did not include that you . . . "

Bella watched Edward clearly struggle with some fierce emotion for a moment before he shook his head slowly and turned to face her. "When we left before, we told him that Laurent should be treated as a friend—like our cousins—because he'd adopted our lifestyle. Sam said he hadn't. Irina didn't believe Carlisle when he relayed the information, and claimed that Laurent would never go back to hurting humans. She said our family had more faith in a "pack of mutts", as she referred to them, than their own kind. And her family supports her . . . as one would expect."

"I see," Bella said. "So Sam—"

"Is not an ally we can afford to offend further. Even though I'd like to do more than that now that I know the full story." Edward muttered the second part almost to himself.

Bella buried her face in Edward's chest. "Oh, poor Charlie."

"I know. I'm so sorry," Edward said.

They sat quietly together for a few minutes, Bella with her head against Edward's chest while he kept one arm around her. A thought that had plagued Bella found room to surface. "Josh thought I was dead, didn't he?"

She could hear the reluctance in his voice. "Yes," he sighed.

"And Mer?"

He shook his head. "No, she was only worried, and not for very long."

"Okay," Bella breathed out, relieved. "They're fine, though, right now?"

"Yes."

She breathed out a sigh while she tried to identify the niggling idea that there was still something else she needed to say or do, Finally, it came to her.

"Edward?" She tilted her head up just enough to see the bottom of his perfect chin.

"Hmm?" His hand stroked her hair.

"I do."

Silence. He was waiting.

"You asked me something outside." she continued. "And I . . . I was confused and light-headed and I didn't answer you. But now I know what I should have said." She knew she was talking too fast but she had finally realized what she wanted—no, needed—to tell him and it was coming out in a rush. Did he even know what she was talking about?

His hand had stopped moving and still rested gently on her head but he was quiet. His chest was still and she could tell he wasn't breathing. Yes, he knew.

But he needed to hear the words from her. She started again a third time. "I guess I wasn't as sure as I should have been and I'm sorry, but I know now. I should have said yes, Edward. Because, I _do_ trust you."

"Thank you." His words were so quiet, they were more exhale than whisper but she could sense the emotional release behind them. She felt him take in a breath but he said nothing more.

His arms tightened around her shoulders, and he resumed stroking her hair as she leaned against him. She knew several more minutes passed, but time had paused itself. Bella knew she'd given Edward a gift with her words, but the peace she felt here in his arms after her pronouncement made her feel just as blessed.

After a few more minutes of calm, Bella became more aware of all the people and responsibilities waiting for them downstairs. "We can't hide up here forever. I'm fine now."

Edward watched her, still holding her hand. She was bothered that his expression was more calculating than she wanted to see, but it occurred to her that maybe she wasn't being fair. Perhaps this wasn't a vampire thing at all . . . perhaps it was just a doctor thing. Did human doctors gauge their partners' health constantly? Was it Edward's fault that he could assess her body's condition without having to resort to stethoscopes and such?

"We should go downstairs," she said, trying again. "The kids— "

"They're fine." Edward's features relaxed as he said this and Bella made a sudden realization; what she had thought was a calculating expression focused only on her was simply Edward 'listening' to what was happening around them. She hoped he would think the embarrassed flush she felt on her cheeks was pregnancy-related. _Of course, _he'd been watching out for everyone and not just her.

"Charlie too?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yes. But we can go downstairs if you feel up to it."

Bella nodded. "I do." As he helped her stand, she remembered something else she wanted to ask him. "Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Does Charlie really think my dresses are too short?"

His smile was amused and he gave her a wink but she already knew it was all the response she was going to get. Then he took her hand, and they walked down the stairs together, knowing that any obstacles they faced would at least not be met alone.

* * *

A note from my Beta, Eeyorefan12:

When Erin asked me to beta this story, she tasked me with helping to assure plot continuity and honest character development. Toward both those ends, she has chosen to have her Bella and Edward narrate not only the events of their story but their own emotional journeys as well. I think her vision has come through really well, and I hope readers are able to see a true progression in the characters' attitudes and relationships. With that said, this chapter contains a lot more dialogue than most. Erin has made the choice to offer it to you all at once rather than parcel it out, but that does mean a lot of exposition comes in the form of dialogue and inner voice. If you guys are like me, you like to devour new story posts as soon as they hit your inbox. Still, to get the most out of the upcoming chapters, I hope readers took the extra time on this one. Sometimes a series of small realizations and discoveries are just as important as cliffhangers and grand epiphanies—although there will be plenty more of those, too! ;)

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	41. Chivalry

A/N for 2019-11-17: This comes to you several hours and a week later than planned. Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her faithful beta work.

~ Erin

* * *

Josh was very sensitive to light. Its presence in the evening made summer bedtimes later, and its early arrival in the morning made his mornings earlier. He still napped, and this was good, Edward mused, as it could stretch to fill the deficit of sleep that seemed to expand and contract with the seasons.

This was one of those early mornings, and he and Josh sat at the table in Esme's immaculate kitchen. Josh's mind was busy, presenting Edward with questions and declarations mostly in the form of images, but with some errant words in the ruffled wake of his thoughts. Meredith and Bella were both still asleep, though Bella would wake soon briefly, and then—Edward hoped—return to sleep. Her pregnancy was just shy of eighteen weeks. The tests he wanted to run couldn't be done for a few more weeks, and he hoped the results would disprove his fears for her well-being.

Josh's thoughts pressed repeatedly, and he looked at Edward over his cereal. "Man?" he asked.

"I'm listening," Edward said.

Josh showed him Bella on the ground at Charlie's house from a few days before, and then a startlingly strong image of Matt, as he'd been laid out at the funeral home. Then one of Bubbles, as she'd laid still on a faded blue towel. They were the same images he'd shown Edward when Bella had collapsed, minus the panicked tone. Then he showed Edward an image of his mother sleeping.

"Yes, it was more like that," Edward agreed.

Josh nodded and went back to his cereal. He'd eaten most of it and was now experimenting with his milky canvas, nudging the floating o-shaped pieces into lines and shapes.

"You made a line," Edward said, smiling at the grin this brought to Josh's face. Reaching over, Edward nudged the pieces into a circle. "Circle."

Josh squished his eyebrows together. "Sir-cull."

"Yes, circle. Good!"

Bouncing from excitement, Josh nearly tipped over the bowl, but Edward caught it.

Josh replayed the action several times, flicking his eyes between the bowl and Edward.

"Yes. I'm very fast," Edward agreed.

"Fast," Josh said, and then without hesitation. "Man, fast."

The excitement Edward felt at this cohesive phrase was twinned with an equally deep concern. Josh was very, very perceptive—at least, with what he wanted to see. Mer's global focus surpassed her brother's, but there was no hiding what he and the rest of the Cullens were with Josh. His observations had already been shaped into very clear concrete conclusions in his little mind.

It wasn't a significant worry yet, but when Josh learned to verbalize more fluently, they would have to watch him carefully. Or, and he cringed internally at the idea, use Josh's Autism as a means to explain away his imaginative descriptions of his family members. The thought was a painful one, but they had to have strategies at the ready. While they worked hard to keep their inhuman capacities from both children, there were inevitable slips, and here Edward chastised himself. He could have let the bowl tip and spill. It was still habit to fix things.

Bella had warned him several times. "Kids need to make mistakes to learn things. Let them learn."

He agreed with her, but it was harder to put this principle into practise.

Edward watched Joshua rearrange his cereal into what his young mind thought passed for a dragon shape. Edward cocked his head while trying to see it, then frowned while making the effort.

Josh caught the expression. "Dwagon," he explained, copying Edward's frown.

Edward lifted his eyebrows in concession and nodded. "Yes, a dragon."

Josh's attention was jumping through his various interests now, and he gave up on trying to make shapes, eating the remainder of his cereal instead. He settled on his preferred topic. "Truck," he said, showing Edward what he thought was covered by the word.

"Jeep," Edward corrected.

Josh pictured Emmett and Rosalie. They regularly took him for short drives up and down the driveway. He liked the jeep best. He was replaying the last ride over in his mind.

"Do you want to go wake up Rose and Emmett?" Edward asked. Josh hadn't figured out that he and his family didn't sleep, yet, and hopefully wouldn't figure that out for a good while.

The coppery curls bounced with his excited nod.

"First, you help clean up, then you can go wake them up," Edward said, just as Josh was about to dash from the table. He pointed his gaze at Josh's cereal bowl.

From a distant corner of the house, Emmett groaned. He and Rose were occupied in a way that Emmett was not eager to end soon.

"Fair warning," Edward murmured to the non-human members of his family.

Josh's little frown was more intense now, and he remembered Bella telling him to clean up too, as he pointed a dissatisfied stare at Edward. The comparison was not flattering.

"Yes, even I make you tidy up." Edward grinned.

Edward mused over the concept of family, considering the way it was being expanded for him. Gently, he ran his fingers through Josh's hair, warranting a quizzical look.

"Your hair reminds me of shiny pennies," he said.

Josh thought of the jar of pennies that Edward kept on his dresser. They were a currency foreign to him and Meredith. They'd played with the contents upon their discovery, making lines and pictures over the carpet of his room.

"Yes, just like those. If you want, I'll show you how to make them shiny later today."

Josh's yes was silent, and Edward smiled, hearing it. "Clean up first, though, okay?"

With the carefulness only a child could employ, Josh walked his sloshing bowl to the sink, leaving a trail of tiny white dribbles behind him.

"Good job," Edward said, when he finally reached the sink.

As soon as the bowl was on the counter, Josh bolted, running for Emmett and Rosalie's room.

After wiping up the mess, Edward turned his attention to making breakfast for Bella. He fried some eggs, plating them, then adding some watermelon wedges. He'd offered Josh the same meal, but had gotten an incredulous head shake in response. Putting the food, a glass of water, cutlery and a cup of herbal tea on a tray, he paused. Then he zipped outside, plucking a spray of roses from one of Esme's plants. He slipped the small buds into an equally small glass of water, and carried the whole assemblage upstairs.

Bella was awake, and smiled at him. When she caught sight of his full hands, the expression dropped from her face.

"You don't like breakfast in bed?" Edward asked, setting the tray onto the bed.

"I do, and I know I said I'd rest, but . . . " she eyed the tray. "Is this your way of telling me I'm not allowed to get out of bed?"

"No," Edward answered, smiling. "I just thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed for a change."

"Oh." She seemed relieved.

His mind replayed the conversation of a few nights before, shortly after their engagement party. On the drive home, he'd managed to keep his concerns to himself, but after the children went to bed, he'd let the full swath of his anxiety break loose.

"They didn't give it much thought after they saw you up and moving around," he'd said to Bella, when she asked again about how Josh and Meredith were handling having seen her so unwell.

"Good," she'd sighed.

They'd had many conversations about the ways in which her children had expressed and coped with their grief for Matt. It was something that often occupied her thoughts—and he didn't need to hear them to know; her emotionally agile face told him just as articulately.

"I, however, am not doing very well with the way your pregnancy is progressing."

He'd been so careful at keeping the line she'd asked him to respect about her health that he wasn't surprised to see her tense, nervously lifting her eyes to meet his.

He had tried softening his words with a hand to her cheek. "I hope you've figured out by now, you are more precious to me than anything or anyone else, my own life included. And you are not doing well with this pregnancy. You've refused all the extra tests that your midwife has offered, and you're not following the rest she's asked you to take. And I am not sure how to convince you that you need it." He'd looked down, jaw clenched as he searched for more words. "Your body is sending you fairly clear signals, and yet you're not convinced by those either—you passed out," he'd added for clarification. "When your body won't listen to the brain's suggestions, it ends the choice and makes you lose consciousness. That and the elevated blood pressure, the varicose veins, the nausea—"

Her cheeks had flamed. He'd suspected that, presented with the list of things she had been able to dismiss as simply the disconnected symptoms of pregnancy, their amalgamation was revealing the denial in which she'd buried herself.

"What do you think it is?" she'd finally asked.

"I'm not sure, but I'd like your permission to find out, or for Carlisle to, or . . . someone."

Her hands had cupped his cheeks, "I'm sorry for making you worry. Thank you for telling me. I think you would probably feel better checking yourself, or having Carlisle check, rather than finding someone else."

He hadn't wanted to overwhelm her with concern, but he wondered now, eyeing the tray between them, if he hadn't overdone things this morning. He truly had meant it purely as a romantic gesture . . . mostly.

"You're really worried that I'm going to become ridiculously overprotective, aren't you?" He could hear it in her heartbeat.

"I don't want to be wrapped in cotton-balls, no."

Edward nodded in acknowledgement, and Bella looked a little relieved, sitting herself up against the headboard, putting the tray on her lap.

Edward lay alongside her, stretching up to kiss her cheek.

"These are pretty," she said, touching the tight red flower buds.

"I thought you'd like something nice to look at."

She chuckled and smiled. "Oh, I already have you here."

"So Mer was right. I'm 'pretty.'"

Bella put her hand to her mouth, snorting. Mer had blithely commented that all the Cullen men seemed to be very pretty. Emmett had had a field day with the remark. He'd quietly ribbed Edward about all the ways in which he was "pretty."

"Is Josh safely occupied?"

"Of course," Edward said, tracing a set of lazy swirls up her arm with his finger.

"Doing what?"

"'Waking up' Rose and Emmett so they can go play in the jeep."

"I'll bet they didn't appreciate that," she said sympathetically.

Edward snorted softly. "Well, Rose is thrilled."

"And Emmett?"

"He'll survive," he answered dryly. Bella smiled knowingly. Surely she suspected there was some sort of 'payback' involved.

"And Meredith is asleep?"

"Soundly," Edward said, reaching her elbow.

Bella set the tray aside, and then wrapped her hands around his face, kissing him. "Excellent."

"This doesn't strike me as being very restful," he murmured against her lips.

"I just woke up. I can nap later," she mumbled back, continuing with the kisses.

He responded carefully, matching her movements, letting her lead him to the places she wanted him to go. His touch was soft and tentative. Almost reluctant.

"What's wrong?" she finally asked.

"Nothing," he said. It was true. He was just being very, very careful. Extra careful.

"Then why, when you were all over me when we first got back together, are you so hesitant now?" she challenged.

He watched her, scraping away at that thin layer of clutter that obscured his one constant intention: to protect her. His worries were more vibrant now with the new developments in her pregnancy.

He spoke gently. "Well, if I'm reading things correctly, I have an idea of where this is going, and I'm always afraid I'm going to hurt you."

A set of wrinkles grew on her forehead. "You've never hurt me."

He lifted his eyebrows, questioning her statement. As far as he was concerned he had—every single time, if the depleting stock of items in the freezer was any indication.

"You can't think of it that way," she said in response to his gesture, propping herself up on her elbow.

"I try not to think of it that way, but I won't deny the physical outcome such pleasant activities produce," he offered, brushing his hand down her cheek.

"Do you still want me this way?" she asked. There was a tremble to her voice, and his chest tightened.

How stupid of him. Of course she'd wonder. That ridiculous insecurity lived on, despite his many reassurances and actions to the contrary.

"Of course I do," he whispered.

"Then show me," she breathed back. There was an edge to it. Yes, that worry was deeply rooted. And if he needed to worship at her feet every day to dislodge it, he would until it was neatly excised and destroyed.

He began at her feet, planting kisses at her heels. "I love you. Every part of you," he murmured, firm presses of his lips marking his progress up her legs, paying special attention to the few spots where long blue veins had become raised lines. Moving upwards again, he paused where her legs joined, lingering there with his lips and tongue. "Though I do enjoy the kind of response I can get from you here."

She twitched and moaned, gasping at the intimate invasion, her hands merely a tickle for him where they fisted his hair. When he blew a loud raspberry on her belly, she burst into laughter.

He nuzzled her breasts first before taking them into his mouth, savouring the way her body writhed beneath him as he sucked and licked.

He didn't break contact, stretching his hand out to reach into the bedside drawer, grabbing a thin foil package. He'd bought them as a precaution, knowing there was very little chance of the venom in his bodily fluids beginning a change, but not wanting to take the risk. The cervix was simply too easy to make bleed at this point in the pregnancy.

Bella opened her legs, moving to wrap them around his back. Oh, the way she wanted him—and the way he wanted her.

"Show me you want me," she whispered as he finished rolled the condom on.

"There is no question," he groaned, lowering himself over her and pushing inside.

She arched her head back, elbows pressed into the bed, closing the gap between them.

Underneath her sounds of pleasure, he could hear one heart-rate dropping. It wasn't anywhere near dangerous, but Bella was beyond the point where she could lie on her back for any prolonged period of time without the vena cava being suppressed.

He rolled onto his back, bringing her to sit on top of him, using his hands at her hips to help move her in a slow slide up and down. There was a pinch in her forehead, and he knew he was pushing too far for her to be comfortable. But if he lifted her up any further, it would rob her of the ability to control any of her own movements.

Sitting up, he pulled out of her, eliciting a displeasured moan. "Can we try a different position? One that you're more comfortable with?"

"Sure," she gasped. "Just . . . now, please."

He kissed her again, pulling them both back down to the bed so that she rested on her left side. It would be an awkward position for a human couple, but he angled his body to match hers, moving gently inside of her.

Bella's hand snaked between his legs, gripping him. The sound in his throat was part moan, part purring growl, increasing with the pressure exerted by the fiery cup of her palm. He reciprocated by swirling his fingers through her fine hair, locating the spot that made her body finally jerk with release. Her hand tightened, and he joined her in the throes of that rippling pleasure.

He disposed of the condom quickly, tossing the tied item into the small metal container that sat high on the room's tall bookshelf. While it was well out of the reach of Josh or Meredith, he would still burn that particular bin of trash later. He then turned his attention back to Bella, who wrapped herself around him again, her legs straddling his thigh. She was warm from exertion, and he loved that this allowed such closeness to his natural chill. It was a small benefit of the pregnancy that she could tolerate the prolonged togetherness.

His gift had taught him that these moments were ones that women often wanted, and that few men offered. As to why not, he could not fathom. Her heartbeat fluttered against him where they were pressed together, and he kept his hands moving over her back and hips, encouraging the regulation of her essential rhythms. Her ear lay against his chest, and he wondered what sounds she heard there—the proverbial sea of her own heart, thumping back against her? Or some sound his body produced that only she could hear?

Her heartbeat should have been slowing, but it wasn't. Instead, he could hear and feel it tripping and skipping in uneven rhythms, and he let his thoughts slip from the contentment they were enjoying to more grisly speculation. Had she heard something he and Jasper had discussed the other night? No, surely not. They'd kept their voices undetectably low. The computers were all password-protected, and the one Bella used was never purposed towards the Cullens' research. It wasn't that he worked to keep things from her, but he didn't want her making any unexpected, or gruesome discoveries and, after their conversation the day of the party, he felt they were on the same page about that.

Bella's leg twitched. Perhaps a bodily need? "Do you need to get up?"

"No."

His fingers continued to stroke her hair, gently teasing apart the tiny knots they found, trying to soothe whatever it was that was troubling his mate.

"Is there something bothering you right now?" he asked.

Her breathing quickened.

His silent 'Yes,' and her audible, "No," were synchronized.

He kept stroking her hair, waiting.

Bella closed her eyes, pulled in a large breath, and then released it, blinking her eyes open and looking at him. "Yes, something is bothering me. It's something I should have told you about well before today."

She rolled over onto her back to grab her phone from the bed-side table, punching in her pass-code and tapping the screen, obviously looking for something. She handed the phone to him silently. Her jaw and breathing appeared equally strained.

He barely had time to wonder at what sort of image or text could cause such anxiety for Bella, when he saw the name and the email.

And the date.

The email was days old.

Instinctively, his body stilled in the manner of the prey he hunted, everything in him poised and ready, determining whether to leap or pivot, flee or fight, as he weighed his choices and their likely effects.

In that moment, he took the barest fraction of a second to give thanks for the adeptness of his supernatural mind, because he needed all its capacity to consider what Bella had just shown him, what it might mean, and more importantly, why she hadn't shown it to him before.

He immediately dismissed any notion of ill-intent. After all they had suffered, and how hard they'd been working, he couldn't believe that she'd intentionally made their jobs harder. No, it was something else. His immediate suspicion was fear, most likely that she was afraid for him, and what he might do with such information.

Her question from moments ago bubbled to the surface. Did she think he would leave her again? He'd told her again and again and again that he wouldn't. And yet . . . she had lost him once before, and then her best friend, and then her husband. And then a man she might have called friend. She'd even her lost her damn cat.

All this thinking was done by the time he'd looked back up at her from the screen. Her face was creased with worry, and she was holding her breath.

"Breathe, Bella," he said, cupping her cheek.

She did, snatching in a hasty lung-full of air.

"I could probably guess at why you didn't tell me about this, but I'd prefer to hear it from you."

She had to take another breath before she could speak. "I have no good reason for keeping this from you, beyond my own selfish one. Until I got this, everything had begun to feel ever-so-slightly normal again, I just didn't want to break that tiny bit of happiness that we've managed to get back. You seemed so . . . relaxed. So at ease with us."

Edward felt his eyes widen. She had been trying to . . . protect _him_? From stress?

"I was going to tell you, but then the engagement party happened and Sam and Sue and Dad, and this—" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I should have told you. I knew it then, I . . . just didn't want to add one more thing to all the things that are going on, and after not telling you, it just got harder to find the time to tell you, and—"

Edward put his hand over hers, trying to stop the quickening pace of her speech. "I understand," he said.

He did understand, but he was still floored by the revelation. She had kept what could have been vital—or, more likely—lethal—information from them because she'd been worried about his reaction and how it would affect their relationship. Of course, the email contained nothing important in and of itself, and it wasn't as if they didn't know that Victoria was keeping tabs on Bella, but still, if they'd known in time, they could have traced the originating IP address and place, and possibly traced that back to a physical clue, or maybe a trail, if they were lucky. It was unlikely in the extreme, but it was still a whisper of a possibility.

And with this last thought, it occurred to him that what was even more likely was Victoria attempting to drive a wedge between them. Yes. So much more likely. If the email had been anything of consequence, if Bella's decision to delay would have changed anything, Alice would have seen something, and she hadn't.

"It's alright, Bella. It doesn't matter," he finally continued. "It's very likely it didn't matter even when it first arrived. She's covered all her other tracks so well, I don't doubt she's covered her electronic ones, too." At least, they'd found no trace of her online, despite a web of programs designed to report on any kind of search they thought she might make.

No, he determined, the email was as red a herring as any.

Bella was biting her lip, watching him with a somewhat dubious expression He supposed she had expected a much different reaction and, to be honest, he was surprising himself with his reasoned response. She was probably waiting for the other shoe to drop and that thought gave him pause. The idea that Bella was afraid of him in any way was unacceptable. He chose his next words carefully.

"I love you," he said. "This was likely nothing to begin with, and her intent was probably only to drive us apart. Or frighten you, or make you worry, which she has obviously done."

Bella nodded, her hand clammy in his cool one. "I'm so sorry, Edward, I really screwed up."

He gave her a rueful smile. "I won't deny I think it was a mistake not to tell me, but mainly because we are going to need all the pieces of the puzzle to solve it. Still, I don't think dealing with a vengeful vampire falls under the umbrella of a normal marriage."

She shook her head. "No, I don't suppose it does."

They both sighed.

He brushed his fingers over her hand. "I will keep you safe, I promise."

It was one of those times when he wished he could hear what she was thinking, but all he knew was that her lips made a wan smile. If it was doubt he was seeing on her face, he could hardly blame her. What had he done to stymie Victoria so far? While his promise might feel weaker for its repetition, it would only truly be weakened by division between him and Bella.

"But I need you to trust me, and to let me protect you as I can. As only one of my kind can."

She watched him for what felt like a long time, finally nodding.

"And how do I protect you?" she asked. "From worrying so much for me?"

This he could answer. "If I have your love and your well-being, I need nothing else."

She laughed, as joyful and care-free a sound as any, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Of course you have my love , and the rest of that thought is so beautiful and . . . hilarious. You, Edward Cullen, are an anachronism. "

"An anachronism?" Was he so out of place in this time?

"Your chivalry is appreciated, but good relationships find their goodness in balance," she said, her wide smile slipping a little. "I messed up on this one, but I can do better. Let me help you, too, through all this mess."

That she desired his happiness as much as he desired her own made his resolve harden even more. He would end the danger that Victoria posed to their life together, one way or another.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	42. Paid for in Blood

A/N for 2019-12-01: I seem to be one of those people who likes telling themselves that life will somehow become less busy. So far, this hasn't worked out, which means for now you should expect a chapter every two weeks.

As always, I owe many thanks to my remarkable (and dedicated!) beta, Eeyorefan12.

\- Erin

* * *

"How're you doing Dad?" Bella asked, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"Oh, you know. Fine." His voice sounded staticky through the receiver.

She sighed quietly.

"Sucks when that's the answer, eh?" Charlie chuckled into the phone.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Point taken. How _are_ you doing though?"

His voice dropped a few notes. "I'm as okay as you could expect, honey."

Not fine.

He'd refused to hear any talk of him and Sue reconciling. She'd tried nudging from all the angles she could think of, but every attempt was met with his characteristically steely resistance.

Sue hadn't been much help either. She'd come to the phone when Bella had called her, but it had been a painful extraction of the barest responses—most of them monosyllabic, and all of them miserable. She was loyal to the tribe to a fault.

"Can I convince you to come for dinner?" Bella tried.

"No thanks, honey. I wouldn't be good company, and I'd prefer the kids didn't see me that way."

She twisted the hem of her shirt with her fingers. This sucked. This really sucked. She couldn't tell him the truth about what Sue had known, and now she felt just as guilty, hoarding what she knew, protecting secrets that weren't hers to tell.

Those secrets had left a mess—one with which they were all now dealing.

Cursing Sam silently, Bella said, "Okay, fine, but I'm bringing you lunch tomorrow. Bye." Then she hung up before Charlie could say no. She'd called him daily since the night of the party, but he'd mostly kept to himself, politely refusing her invitations and overtures. The kids had only seen him a few times since that night, once for Josh's small birthday party, and a few times when Bella was in town at the local playground.

Edward eyed her as she put the phone back on the charger. He said nothing but his concerned expression spoke volumes.

"No, I'm not sure it's wise, but I need to go see him and at least have lunch with him." It came out as a sullen grumble.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't," Edward said. He set his book down and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his lap with his hands folded. It was a practiced posture she knew well, one that he used to make himself look calm and unthreatening to people. One that he didn't usually think was necessary to use with her.

Bella winced a little with the realization. "No, you aren't." She sighed. "Sorry. I'm—"

"Worried." His lips curved slightly into a sympathetic smile. "I know."

They were both quiet then as she stood in the middle of the living room, feeling unsettled. Bella felt herself holding onto her right arm with her left, mimicking the posture she'd acquired after breaking her hand. Edward had mentioned once that it was one of her 'tells' when she was thinking or, more likely, worrying. As if he didn't read her well enough already.

"It's only been a few weeks, Bella. It will take him some time." Edward's voice was as gentle as the suggestion.

"I know," she said, the syllables more clipped than she meant them to be.

In the past, she'd shouldered her own difficulties, accepting help when it had to be accepted, doing what needed to be done. That had been fine. But watching her father struggle for the sake of her well-being—that was an open sore. It was harder to justify his suffering now, and she'd pushed at all the reasons Edward had given, searching for a crack in his rock solid logic, desperately seeking a way to relieve Charlie of the burden the wolves and the Cullens' secret put upon him.

The hollow in Edward's cheek deepened as he flexed his jaw, clearly working up to something.

There was a very good chance the next words out of his mouth would be something like _take a deep breath_, _relax_, or God help her, _maybe go lay down_.

She gripped her arm tighter.

It just wasn't . . . fair.

Huffing out a breath, she sat down, trying to draw a deeper breath back into herself. The tightness at her visibly-pregnant abdomen was just beginning to constrain her natural movements. She let out the lungful of air purposefully, and then tried to take another, deeper breath, although her agitation kept her perched on the edge of the sofa.

Edward shook his head slightly.

Bella put her feet up on the coffee table.

After she'd agreed to let Edward and Carlisle run some tests, they'd come back with a murky but concerning diagnosis of preeclampsia. Well, Edward had been concerned and more certain of the diagnosis, while Carlisle seemed less so on both fronts. She was inclined to take her prospective father-in-law's diagnosis over her fiance's, knowing full well it wasn't just his years of additional experience that swayed her in Carlisle's direction.

Even so, both had agreed that rest and regular but mild exercise were the the most important treatments, and that any kind of stress should be avoided. She'd made the most unflattering of snorted laughs when Carlisle had mentioned the latter part, but Edward's pinched features had made her regret it immediately.

"Please," he'd said. "This is important."

She'd reluctantly agreed with them, and wished her patience for the treatment would grow to be commensurate with the need. She was careful with her diet, drank lots of water, and took the magnesium pills Carlisle had suggested.

"There are worse things than having to put up your feet and read a book, or relax with me," Edward had said.

True.

But, after several very industrious years working full time while taking care of her own children, it was difficult to slow down. Even after these few weeks of 'practise', her muscles still flinched in readiness everytime Mer or Josh asked for something.

Esme seemed to understand Bella's need for industry and had suggested the idea of making a baby quilt.

"Quilting?" Bella had asked in a strangled voice, thinking of her clumsy fingers and general physical ineptitude. It had been at least ten years since her last half-hearted attempt.

"Yes, quilting," Esme had said. "You need a project. And I know that look," she'd added, watching Bella's eyebrows rise.

She had then patiently walked Bella through the design process, helping her select colours and a pattern, teaching her the steps and technique required.

As much as she'd disdained the very notion of anything so crafty, Bella found the work therapeutic. Her simple design morphed over the days, sometimes balled up and discarded in the waste-bin, other times resurrected.

The little quilt had more form now, and as Bella pulled her box of supplies towards her, she shifted her position on the couch and extended her legs in Edward's direction.

Edward put her feet up onto his knees, smiling.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

She flicked her gaze up to meet his, worried now. "What?"

He sighed a little. "You relax when you do this."

Oh. "I suppose so."

"No, I mean your whole body relaxes. I can hear it."

She allowed a small smirk to curl up from the corner of her mouth. "You seem surprised by that."

"Not really," he said, rubbing her feet. "But I'm glad you have something that keeps you from getting snippy with me."

She decided that she deserved that one. "I have to live up to at least a few of the pregnancy stereotypes." Then she paused, saying more genuinely, "Sorry, I really have been crabby."

Edward tilted his head and smiled. "I love you. Even when you're crabby."

She blew him a kiss and then worked for a bit. Edward worked too, making her toes tingle.

"How do you plan to deal with your disappointment tomorrow?" he finally asked.

She paused, hand halfway through pinning one piece to another. For a half-second, she contemplated challenging his notion, but the defensiveness withered before reaching her tongue. "I love him, Edward. I can't leave him to suffer through this alone, knowing I could so easily resolve it for him."

"You can't, Bella." His reminder was gentle but she could hear the regret in his tone.

"I know."

She fingered the patch of blue fabric. The silver stars were slightly raised, and she traced them with the tip of her fingernail.

"So what are you hoping for?" Edward asked. It felt like his thumbs were tracing the same shape she was—touching the points of a five-point star—up, down, diagonal, side, diagonal. She kept moving her finger over the pattern, musing over the pretty hopes people liked to pin on such things.

Then she gave words to the unhappy truth. "I'm not going to make anything better, but I can at least sit with him, so he isn't alone in his misery. He did that for me."

Edward's hand froze in place as the room fell silent, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. After a short time, his fingers resumed their movements. "I'm glad he did," he said quietly.

"Me too" she agreed, realizing for the first time how little pain the memory brought her now. Turning her attention back to the fabric, she thought of Charlie, hoping that time and space would give him back peace with Sue, as it had for her and Edward.

\- 0 -

Edward drove Bella to the police station, handing her a beautifully-prepared lunch of Esme's making once they were out of the car. "I will not be far," he said at the door, giving her a peck on the cheek.

She accepted this, smirking a little. "Aren't you on your best behaviour."

"Just in public," he murmured, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers a bit less chastely. "Later, not so much.," he whispered in her ear.

"Good," she said, hooking a finger into his belt loop. "Hold you to that."

"Mmm," He pulled back and brushed her cheek with his hand. "Call me when you're ready to go."

Bella watched him walk away, thinking very unchaste things, glad he hadn't reminded her about anything pregnancy-related. He was getting better at that balance—being with her instead of managing her.

Charlie had obviously seen her, and was standing up, coming to the front when she arrived. "Hey you," he said, wrapping her in a hug.

"Hey yourself," she mumbled into his shirt. It smelled slightly musty, like it had sat in the washer too long before being dried.

It probably had, she thought, wondering when the last time it'd been since he'd been in charge of his own laundry.

"You really didn't have to make lunch," he said, eyeing the basket.

"Don't worry, I didn't," she said, catching herself before she mentioned Esme's name. "Edward did. You can thank him later."

"Hmm," Charlie said, the sound politely ambivalent. He'd made such an effort with Edward when they arrived, but the shine had faded a little with his ousting of Sue. Of course, a lot of things had slipped for Charlie since then—his heart, for starters.

"Mind if we head outside to eat?" he asked. "I've been cooped up in here all morning."

"Sure," Bella said, eyeing the weather outside. Cloudy, but not threatening rain.

"We'll just be outside, Mary," Charlie called to the receptionist. "Sorry," he said turning back to Bella, "Mark's home sick today, so if there's a call—"

"I got it, Dad," she said, smiling. This was nothing new, his dedication to his work.

They wandered just a short ways away to a small green space and a bench.

"Thank you for coming," he said, taking a bite of the sandwich. "My God, that's amazing. What's in this?" He peered at the filling.

"I'm not sure you want to know," Bella said, having watched Esme roast several different kinds of vegetables—eggplant included, which Charlie claimed to loathe.

"Why?" Charlie asked suspiciously.

"It's all healthy stuff," she answered innocently, knowing Esme had just as many concerns about Charlie's vegetable-deficient diet as she did.

Charlie shrugged and took another bite. "How're the kids doing?" he asked.

"Good. Edward's been working really hard with Josh. He's actually starting to use two words together a lot of the time."

"Really?" Charlie asked, his voice holding more energy than she'd heard in a long time.

"Really," she said, smiling widely. "It's exciting." That was an understatement. It was transformative.

"That's good," Charlie said, his voice sliding back into its regular greyness.

Charlie's next question surprised her. "You told your mom about you and Edward yet?" Charlie asked, tipping his cup of juice back.

Charlie never asked about Renee. Ever.

"Um, no," she said quietly, trying to trace his concern back to its source.

Setting the glass down on the bench, Charlie eyed her, something like uncertainty in his eyes. "She should really know. It's important not to keep things from people you love."

Of course.

"I should. It's just—Mom, you know."

"I know," Charlie said, scuffing a bit of dry grass off the bench's cement apron. "Still."

Still. Yes. "I will. We just don't talk a lot. She's . . . busy."

"She's busy," Charlie muttered under his breath, snorting.

How Charlie held onto any kind of expectation with Renee, after all that he'd seen from her over the years, Bella wasn't sure. It had felt unnaturally easy to let the ties she had with her mother dissolve after her own children had arrived. Renee loved her, or so she said, but it hadn't—and still didn't translate into the kind of practical care-taking Bella expected from someone who made that kind of profession.

Bella considered the topic of Renee dropped when Charlie began eating again. She decided it was time to make her own push.

"And you and Sue?"

"There really isn't a me and Sue anymore, Bella."

She took another bite of food, giving herself time. "And Leah and Seth? Camille? Their baby?"

Charlie looked away. She'd touched a nerve.

"Of course I care about them," he said.. "I care about Sue, too. But you can't just—" His hands became still, wrapped around the remains of his sandwich. "You can't hold something back like that about someone's child. It's . . . too much."

A little sigh escaped Bella. There was no logical counterargument to this. There was no emotional one either. There was only forgiveness, and he didn't have it to offer.

"Chief?" A voice called.

Charlie turned, and Bella recognized Mary, the station receptionist, a little ways away. She was out of breath, her pink cheeks showing she'd hurried. "Phone call for you. It's Seth."

"Comin'," Charlie said, frowning. He looked apologetically at Bella.

"Go," she said, shaking her head. "I'll get this."

After packing up the basket, she followed her father back to the station, moving slowly and carefully. She wasn't so pregnant yet that her ligaments had completely loosened, but she wasn't taking any careless risks either.

By the time she got there, Charlie had the phone nudged up between his shoulder and ear, making notes in a case-book.

"And you're sure she wouldn't have stopped anywhere else?"

Seth's voice was loud enough that Bella could hear it across the room: "No. She wouldn't."

Charlie nodded, "'Kay." He rubbed his face with his hand. "I'll go have a look. I can't do anything officially until—" He paused, listening, and so did Bella, not catching words this time. "I'll call as soon as I know anything. I'm sure she's fine, just—" he shrugged, lifting his hand, listening again, but there was the pull of guilt in his features.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked as he hung up the phone. There was a sensation of her insides liquefying, as nasty premonitions began to take shape in her mind.

"Sue was on her way here to see me this morning. She was due home to take care of Marcella almost two hours ago. She hasn't called, and she isn't answering her phone. Seth's been up and down the road already looking for her, and no one they've contacted has heard from her." His lips twisted.

Bella's insides had turned to ice. If Sue was missing, and Seth was asking for help—she didn't finish the thought. She couldn't.

"Sorry honey, I'm going to have to cut this short."

"Of course," Bella murmured. She had her phone out, pretending to message Edward, knowing he'd already have heard everything—and that he'd be summoning help. Charlie hadn't even left yet when Edward pulled into the parking lot. "Something urgent came up?" he said to Charlie as he walked up to greet Bella on the steps.

"Probably nothing, but Sue hasn't shown up at home," Charlie said. There was that shrug again. He really did seem to think it was nothing.

He waved at them both as he hopped into his cruiser.

It was not nothing.

Edward's glance at Bella confirmed this.

She swallowed, sucking in a breath, forcing herself not to cry. Please, not Sue. Please, not Sue—

"Bella?" Edward asked.

She shook her head, waiting for Charlie to pull away.

"Is it something more?" she finally asked him.

"We don't know yet. I've asked Carlisle to call Sam."

Yes, calling Sam. This seemed like a good idea. "Okay." She nodded, following the tug of his hand, his other around the basket she'd forgotten. She watched the leftovers loosely jiggle as she followed him to the car, feeling as uncentered as the remnants of her latest meal. Watching the half-sandwich, the glasses, and the bottle clink and clunk together, she imagined them as the community around her—half-eaten, disordered, and unfinished. Jacob gone. Matt gone. Grant gone. Maybe Sue . . . gone.

\- 0 -

"Bella?" Edward's voice made her look over at him. His hand was on the steering wheel. They were moving.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe lie back a bit?" he asked softly.

She let her head fall onto the cushion behind her and lowered the seatback a tiny bit. The world whipped by. She closed her eyes, but it only made things worse—Sue's face, and then all the faces of the people who'd gone missing before her swam up to greet Bella. She flicked her eyelids open, staring ahead, watching the driveway curl and twist until the greenery peeled away to reveal the house.

"Jasper and I will go, if Sam will let us," Edward murmured. "We'll have the best chance of tracking."

"Right," she mumbled, absentmindedly watching Edward carry the basket inside.

"Mama! Man!" Josh squeaked, bouncing towards them. "Mama, drawing!" he said excitedly. "Man!" He pointed to the living room, where many pieces of paper had been taped together to form a long line, this scribbled over with the determined marks of a two-year old. "Train!" Josh explained, pointing. "Train!"

"Yes, train," Bella agreed, looking at it. She could only think of train-wrecks and the catastrophic connotation the word conveyed.

Carlisle had appeared with Josh, his silent and sombre presence confirming Bella's first fears: the wolves hadn't found Sue, and now they wanted the Cullens' help.

"Jasper and I will be back soon," Edward said, "We'll do what we can."

Bella nodded bleakly, squeezing and releasing Edward's fingers as Josh trapped her own. "Mama draw," Josh uttered. A warm marker was pressed into her hand. "Mama draw!"

"I'll draw," she intoned, following him into the living room.

They drew lines together and wheels, adding spokes and colours, boxes and whorls, all at Josh's specific pointed instruction and excited chatter. When he tired of the activity almost an hour later, it was because Emmett had appeared, suggesting Josh might enjoy a ride in the jeep.

For once, Emmett made no jokes, eyeing Bella and the couch, flicking his gaze between the two. His meaning was unmistakable. She didn't need a doctor to tell her she should probably lie down.

Feet propped up, she waited, feeling like an animal anticipating its own slaughter.

She woke with a violent startle at Edward's touch.

"It's just me," he said softly, sliding his arm behind her back to help her sit up.

"Did you find her?" Bella blurted out, not even thinking to lower her voice. The distant sounds of Josh and Mer's voices made her flinch a little. She needed to be more careful.

Edward sat down beside her, one hand still at her back, the other taking hers in a gentle grip. "Yes, we did. I'm sorry."

Oh.

_Oh._

She made the same sound aloud, she was sure, before closing her eyes, turning herself into Edward's chest.

"How?" she whispered.

"Charlie thinks it was an animal attack," Edward whispered back.

Her throat closed up, only letting her croak out, "I need to go see him—"

"He radioed the coroner, Bella, but he's turned off his phone. There's no way to reach him right now."

She sobbed into his chest, Edward holding her, still murmuring. "Jasper stayed, making sure he's safe until his team arrives. There are wolves close too."

"But he's alone, as far as he knows?" she asked.

"Yes, with her," Edward answered.

She didn't need to ask how he was doing. She could imagine that well enough, as well as how they must've laid a trail to lead Charlie to her. She nodded, wiping at her face with the back of her trembling hand. "What happened?"

"The wolves gave chase to what they believed were two nomads this morning. They thought they'd run them off, but when Sue didn't show up, Seth and then the pack went looking again. After they found Sue's car, Sam told Seth to phone Charlie, to avoid raising suspicions."

Bella closed her eyes again. It was true. It would make Charlie suspicious, but poor Seth—he would've known by smell alone what had happened to his mother. And to pull Charlie into it just seemed cruel. It was his job, she reminded herself, but still.

"There was a third vampire. Its scent was in the car. We think it must've taken her and then . . . returned the body." The last words were reluctantly released.

"She's dead." She'd understood him well enough, but the words needed to be spoken aloud.

"Yes."

His body shifted minutely, and Bella followed his gaze to see Carlisle standing at the edge of the living room. She'd become slightly more accustomed to the silent exchanges that seemed to dominate so much of Edward and Carlisle's communication, but this one fairly vibrated between them.

The children's voices were distant enough that Bella knew it was safe to speak. "Please just speak aloud. I need to hear what's going on."

Carlisle said nothing, looking to Edward.

"Sam wants to meet," Edward said, avoiding her eyes.

"Why?" Her suspicions sharpened, watching him. His lips pressed together, and she turned her gaze toward Carlisle, repeating her question. "Why?"

It was Edward who finally answered. "We found her on our side of the treaty line. He blames us for not keeping up our end of the bargain."

"That's ridiculous, he—"

"It is our responsibility to guard against our kind here in our territory. The wolves can't do that in ours, and we can't in theirs. Those are the rules, and we failed."

"So he wants a chance to yell at you?" Bella asked, her own indignation rising.

"I don't know, but we're obliged to go when summoned."

"Then I'll go with you," Bella said, pushing herself forward in her seat.

"No," Edward said, a hand on her shoulder. "It's not safe."

"It's not safe?" she huffed out. "Since when has it been safe? They aren't going to attack me."

Edward's hand stayed on her shoulder exerting just enough pressure to keep her from standing. The muscles in his face were taut. "Whose interests is Sam protecting, Bella?"

"The tribe's," she offered without hesitation.

"Exactly," Edward said. "And what is the greatest threat they face right now?"

She squinted at him, trying to see where these questions were leading. "Vampires."

"And what do those vampires want, as far as we can tell?" His gaze was unwavering as he waited for her to finish assembling the puzzle.

Oh.

"Me."

Edward nodded.

"You think he'd—"

"No, I don't, but I don't want to give an angry, desperate and intemperate creature an opportunity to solve his problems with your life."

She closed her eyes. He was right. She didn't like it, but it would be foolish for her to create such an opportunity. "Okay. But Charlie—"

"Charlie is safe, and we will keep Charlie safe," Edward said.

Charlie's already broken heart was very likely coming undone again. Bella didn't follow the natural line of her logic to the source because her name was at the end of it, and her life was becoming a very expensive accumulation of other ones spent for her safety.

Oh Charlie, she thought. I'm so sorry.

Fresh tears slipped out despite her futile attempt to blink them away. "You should go then," she said, pressing a hand to her abdomen, reminding herself of the main reason why she tethered herself to living. She thought of the email that was still saved in her phone, and how easy it would be to snip that cord and spare anyone else an untimely or painful death at Victoria's hands. She tried to shake off the thought but it remained stubbornly in place.

"I love you," Edward whispered into her hair, moving his hands from constraint to embrace.

"I love you too," she whispered back, guilt tearing at her heart.

What was love, when it cost so much, and was paid for in blood?

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	43. An uneasy truce

A/N for 2019-12-15: As always, many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12, who not only edits with the sharpest of eyes, but who also knows this story better than I do at times.

I hope you all enjoy this latest dose of angst.

~ Erin

* * *

It was Leah who extended the startling invitation to Edward to attend her mother's memorial. Though she had used more colourful terms in her explanation, Leah had told Bella that she'd given Sam an ultimatum: either Edward was allowed to come with Bella, or she and Seth would hold the funeral off the reservation. This was a huge weight off of Bella's shoulders, as she knew it was too risky not to have Cullen protection, but she'd had no idea how to justify her family's absence from the event to Charlie. She still wasn't sure why Leah was being so accommodating, but whatever her reasons, Bella was grateful.

It was another relief when Edward and Carlisle returned physically unscathed from their meeting with Sam and the pack. While Edward assured her Sam had only wanted to vent his growing anger at the situation that had been thrust upon him and the tribe, Bella suspected Edward's understatement sat closer to a lie than the truth.

These tiny and temporary reliefs didn't obscure the other conflicted feelings Bella was experiencing—ones that she couldn't share with anyone else, especially her husband-to-be.

Sue was dead because Bella wasn't. Victoria had made it very clear that she wanted Bella's life in payment for James', and it was getting harder and harder to justify her own continued existence as she watched other lives be extinguished in the most horrific of deathly lotteries.

She had forced herself not to think of it after those few days following Grant's abduction, but now the morbid speculations returned, and she looked around at the people she knew, even those with whom she had only the slightest connections. She hadn't phoned Renee and Phil yet, and she wouldn't. They weren't close, and there was no reason to make anyone think they were. She was also grateful she had chosen to spend the summer in Forks, as she had no regular contact with anyone else but the Cullens and Charlie for the time being. Still, Sue's fate had made it clear that Charlie was in just as much danger, if not more.

She kept the children close, hovering when they spent time with the other Cullens, redirecting requests for outings and shopping trips. There was safety in numbers, she reasoned, and no need to tempt fate.

Because of Sue's death, the Cullens decided to make their full presence official to the people of Forks. Artfully aged with makeup and hair colouring, Carlisle and Esme had gone to visit Charlie with Bella and Edward. Her father, so deep in the depths of his grief, had blandly accepted the aging their appearance presented, barely interacting with them beyond what social necessity required.

Now the morning of the memorial was upon them, and Bella found herself wrestling with a far more common problem: getting Josh dressed. He had refused all suggested outfits so far, clinging to his swimming trunks and swim shirt instead.

"No clothes!" he shrieked again, when Edward pulled out a few other options after trying to explain that swimsuits weren't appropriate for a memorial.

"Yucky!" Josh concluded, looking darkly at the shirt and pants on the bed.

"It's a very special occasion," Bella tried again. "We're going to go say goodbye to Grandma Sue."

Then Edward paused, cocking his head to the side and reaching out to touch Josh's swim shirt, held protectively to the little boy's chest. "This one?" he asked.

Josh nodded.

"And you think she wants to see you in this again?"

Josh nodded more enthusiastically.

Bella lifted her eyebrows, awaiting explanation.

"This is the shirt Josh wore the last time he saw Grandma Sue."

Bella blinked, summoning the memory.

"It makes sense to Josh that he wear it," Edward explained.

"Okay," Bella said, hoping her son was young enough to be excused his eccentric choice of clothing.

Then Josh pulled out his goggles from the bottom dresser drawer, donning these too.

Bella let out a very long breath, but Edward laughed. "Good choice," he praised Josh. He trailed his fingers through her son's hair, then reached over to gently stroke her back. "It's alright," he said softly. "I don't think people will mind. They'll more likely all be staring at me."

Bella nodded wearily in acknowledgement, then tried to smile a little.

He was right. They probably would

The memorial was scheduled to be held in the community hall, a modest clapboard building that sat among the few scattered businesses of the reserve. The structure was old enough that it could have been a church at one time, or perhaps a one-room school, even a dance hall. The tall, double-hung windows that ran its length stood open in the summer heat; the notes being played on a poorly-tuned piano wafted through them.

Bella paused a short ways away from the doors, rubbing at the side of her abdomen.

"Are you alright?" Edward asked. He had Josh on his left arm, her hand on his right. Mer held Bella's other hand, waiting patiently. Both children seemed to have picked up on the mood of the day and she was grateful for the calm.

She shook her head. "Just round ligaments." She wished it was only that. She was more worried about the reception waiting for them in the hall. While she knew they weren't in physical danger—or at least, she told herself that—she wasn't looking forward to the stares they would garner.

Or the whispers.

Most people here still thought she was psychotic. That story had been spread well enough on its own merits. She was the sheriff's crazy daughter after all.

The other half would be whispering about the vampire whose hand she was holding.

Being the centre of such attention made her feel as if her age, or her resilience, had been reduced by a good ten years. All she really wanted was to anonymously grieve, and then help her father through this and all the ugliness she knew came afterwards.

It was the sight of Charlie that made her shrug off the self-consciousness. He was standing at the front of the hall beside Seth, the edges of his face wilting with emotional weariness.

Bella said nothing as she leaned in to hug him, letting her silence wrap him up as much as her arms. When she pulled away, there was gratitude in his eyes, and a gentle nod for Edward. Meredith followed her mother's example, giving Charlie a solemn embrace.

Josh set his own cues, announcing, "Swimshirt," to Charlie, then looking around and asking, "Grandma Sue?"

"She's not here, sweetie," Bella said, hoping another, more detailed explanation was not required. They'd already spoken with the children. Edward had done so at length with Josh again that morning.

As they took their seats, Seth, his family, and Leah flanked Charlie on the aisle side, while Bella, Edward and her children took the other. She thought about this symbolic separation and the very thin buffer that existed between the Quileutes and the world she now inhabited.

There were speeches from the many members of Sue's extended family, several friends, and then, to Bella's great surprise, Charlie.

He cleared his throat at the front of the room, one hand uncertainly on the lectern, his other waving away the offered microphone. He took in the scene, eyes roving over the crowd. A surprising smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth. "I'm not used to addressing such an orderly and well-dressed crowd. My usual audience is a group of people with dubious intentions, more booze, and poorer choices of venue." The crowd chuckled. "Sue woulda had a good laugh over me doing this." There was a quietness now, the silence broken with small cry from little Marcella, who Camille shushed gently. Charlie looked down, shifting his weight from one leg to another. "I don't think it's any secret that Sue and I were separated when she died, so I won't make it one now. I asked her to leave, and she did."

Bella tightened her grip on Edward's hand as Charlie continued.

"It was a stupid decision on my part, and I'd really like to think that I would've seen sense before too long and asked for her forgiveness." There was the smallest of trembles in his voice. "So Sue, honey, if you're hearing this, I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me for being an idiot." He paused, taking careful breaths in, and then went on. "Loving someone with your whole heart is not easy, and Sue was the kind of person who made it look that way. I think I lost sight of that over the years. I know a lot of you have talked about Sue's capacity to love and care—" he gestured to the room and to the people who'd spoken. "The rest of us are lucky to have had her for the time we did. Hopefully, most of you were able to do what I wasn't, and part with her on good terms, knowing things were square between you. Obviously, I didn't. So, if there's someone you need to set things right with, just remember that now's the time. You might not have tomorrow." He nodded once, then again, turned, and walked stiffly back to his seat, where his form hunched down into the folding chair.

He accepted Bella's hand on his shoulder, but didn't meet her eyes, staring straight ahead. The room was full of quiet sniffles and blown noses.

When the service came to an end, Bella watched her father stand and shuffle downstairs along with everyone else, where volunteers had set out tables full of refreshments.

Edward was quick to press a glass of water into Bella's hand, along with a plate of food.

Mer and Josh had caught sight of the dessert table, and had already uttered several long, whiney, "Pleeeeeea-ses!" to their mother.

It was Edward who replied. "You can each have two things, but no more."

"Okay!" Meredith said. Josh nodded solemnly beside her.

Then Edward knelt down, looking them squarely in the eyes, and added in a serious tone. "But I will know if there are more. Understood?"

The siblings exchanged a sideways glance, acknowledging this truth. They had each tested Edward's capacity on this front at home.

"But you can have lots of the other food, okay? Just listen to your tummies."

There were more serious nods, and then less serious skipping away as they joined the swarm of children around a stack of brownies.

Bella leaned over to whisper in Edward's ear, "You have no idea how awesome that is."

He only smiled, brushing his lips by her temple in a soft kiss.

"Bella!" a woman's voice called.

She turned her head, catching sight of Emily, whose hand was clutched in Sam's as if she was pulling him along with her—but one glance at Sam's expression had Bella quickly revising her opinion. No, he was very clearly trying to keep Emily from coming closer. She watched her one-time-friend ease out of her husband's grip and approach. In the same moment, Edward murmured, "I'll just go keep an eye on Mer and Josh."

Emily's hug felt warm after Edward's touch.

"It's so good to see you," Emily said, releasing her, smiling a sad smile. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Me too," Bella said.

Emily glanced at her midsection, "Congratulations, by the way."

"Yeah," Bella said, glancing down herself. It was still startling, in some ways, being pregnant with Matt's child. Seeing all these people from her past, she half-expected him to come sauntering out of the crowd too, or Jacob.

"I hear other congratulations are in order too," Emily's expression suddenly darkened, her gaze following Edward's movements on the other side of the room, where he was talking with Leah.

Bella cleared her throat in response, deciding this was warning enough for Emily to keep her prejudices to herself.

Emily, however, was undeterred.

"Just how the heck do you plan on making that work?" Her gaze still lingered on Edward, a small and disdainful curl wrinkling her lip.

"Just fine, thanks," Bella said. Her Quileute friends had always been direct—Jacob especially so, but sometimes she wished they would just politely ignore awkward truths for a bit.

"Yeah, sure. He's gonna stay young, while you age."

Bella tried to ignore the internal flinch, but it morphed into a snapped reply. "It seems to me you're in the same boat there, Em."

"Hardly. Sam's aged because he stopped shifting," Emily murmured quietly, then stiffened, turning herself fully towards Bella, her jaw hanging loose. Her voice rose in volume and incredulity. "You're not going to let him change you, are you?"

Bella had felt so close to Emily all those years ago, but the friendship had withered after her psychosis diagnosis. Many friendships had. Of course, the real reason for the disintegration of those relationships was apparent now. Bella didn't even know what to say to Emily at this moment, thrown as she was by both the question and its blunt assumptions. It was also surprisingly clear that Emily wasn't aware of what was going on, at least with Sam and the pack.

"Oh my God, he's going to change all of you, isn't he?" Emily whispered harshly when Bella failed to answer, the disgust practically dripping from each syllable..

Bella felt her face flame with the onslaught of frustration and betrayal brought by Emily's words. Her heart was beating so rapidly that it was practically in her throat, and she knew she wasn't the only person aware of it.

Edward's hand reappeared in her own. "Hello, Emily," he said politely.

Sam moved closer too, his towering presence looming over them all. He said nothing with his mouth, and everything with his eyes, which were narrowed in warning.

"Well?" Emily asked Bella, intent on an answer.

"It's hardly your business to ask," Bella whispered angrily, Edward's presence helping her to sort out her thoughts again. How dare Emily, herself mated to a volatile wolf, challenge Bella on her life choices or take offense at her choice of partner?

"It's entirely our business," Sam said.

They were four stiff pillars to a conversation whose topic stretched not just over the entire room but much of the peninsula as well, though this fact was unknown to most of the rest of the hall's inhabitants.

Bella still felt like she was on fire next to Edward's calm and literally cool presence. His hand squeezed hers as if in warning, but she ignored it.

The complete presumption of Sam and Emily made her want to punch one or both of them. Mindful of her recently-healed hand, Bella put her words to Sam instead. "Why don't we go clear the air outside?"

"No," Edward said, his fingers tightening again over hers, almost painfully so.

Bella whispered, knowing Sam and Edward would hear her well enough. "I doubt very much anyone will try to abduct or kill me with both of you so close by."

So intent on the people in front of her, Bella didn't hear Charlie and Camille's approach, or the quiet murmurs bubbling between them.

"Want to put your doctor hat on for a moment?" Charlie asked Edward. "Though it might mean letting go of Bella's hand." There was a small smirk on his face as he said it. The tone of the conversation he'd interrupted clearly hadn't reached him. "Camille's a bit worried about Marcella. I didn't think you'd mind having a look, instead of having her head to the ER on a Sunday night." Charlie looked more closely at Edward, and his features fell, catching the strain on his future son-in-law's face. "That's if—"

"Of course," Edward said, glancing at Bella before letting go of her hand, then giving Sam a dark look before turning to Camille and the baby.

"I'm just going to get some air," Bella mumbled, her angry eyes pointed sharply at Sam. When she turned, she didn't look back to see if he was following, knowing by the prickling on her neck that he was.

Bella walked carefully around the perimeter of the building to reach the front, where there were no windows through which their words might travel.

"I want you to stop interfering with my life, and Charlie's too. You deliberately destroyed his relationship with Sue, and you did your best to take an axe to mine—"

"_I_ destroyed his life?" Sam spat back, laughing incredulously. "Can you hear yourself?"

"There was no reason to drive a wedge between Charlie and Sue and you know it!"

"You outed our secret, Bella, and the Cullens' too. And then you come dancing back into town with _them_ again, attracting more of their kind, and that's no reason to keep Sue away from Charlie?"

She shook her head angrily. "You broke both their hearts out of spite and nothing else."

"I was trying to keep her safe."

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" She stabbed the air with her finger, watching his jaw tense.

"What's bullshit is you thinking you or they are welcome here again—after the mess they left with you got Jake killed, and now Sue—some nerve you have to say any of this is on me!"

"Sue would've been with Charlie if you hadn't split them up. She would have been safe."

"Sure. They could be dead together. Perfect."

This brought Bella up short. She hadn't even considered the possibility. Still, she knew he was wrong. The Cullens were watching Charlie. If Sue had stayed with Charlie . . .

Sam kept going. "She died because the Cullens didn't protect her—and I seriously doubt it wasn't deliberate. So don't act surprised when I doubt them on the other points of the treaty."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bella asked, ignoring his incredible accusation.

Sam lowered his voice. "You're with a vampire, Bella. What the hell do you think it's supposed to mean? He hasn't given up on you after all this time. Do you seriously think he's going to risk you dying as a human? And just so we're perfectly clear, if they bite a human, the treaty's over."

The Cullens had never told her this, but it didn't surprise her that it was part of the treaty.

Sam stepped closer, leaning in so near that she could smell his breath. Her body curled away defensively. "I hope he bites you, Bella. I can't wait for a reason to end them, and any of their kind that come my way." His words were nearly hissed, his scowl sincere. She took an instinctive step back.

"Enough," Edward said, suddenly in front of Bella.

Sam's shape shimmered in the day's dull light as he stood his ground.

"I am completely under control," Edward said, his voice low and even. "Are you?"

Sam stared hard at him for what seemed like a full minute before he suddenly pivoted and walked away, his back taut and hands clenched tightly as he fought for control.

Edward whirled to face Bella. "What in the world do you think you're doing?" His eyes were wide, nose flaring.

Angry. He was angry. With her.

"I—"

"Putting yourself in the hands of a werewolf, away from where I can reach you, and then deliberately provoking him—do you not understand the danger here?" He glowered at her.

Her anger at Sam was waning, just enough that she could feel the uneasy prickling of truth in what Edward was saying. She shoved the discomfort away. "Sam can hate vampires all he wants, Edward, but he doesn't get to throw it around my life—our life, hurting the people I love—"

Edward's voice rose, and now his posture imitated Sam's. "He will do whatever he wants, because he sees you and us as a problem requiring solving. Venting your frustrations only weakens his incentive to honour our very strained treaty. What were you _thinking_?"

Bella stepped back, almost flinching as Edward's hand shot out to steady her elbow.

"Are you feeling dizzy?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

"No," she lied, shaking her head, wobbling when the dislocating wave hit her. Her feet became suddenly uncertain, and she moved her right foot sideways, trying to find a way to keep herself upright without being obvious about it.

Edward's huffed-out breath was full of frustration. "You are so stubborn."

You're one to talk, she thought, as his other hand came to her waist.

"Can you walk?"

She didn't risk shaking her head again. "Not yet. Give me a minute."

He didn't, picking her up and carrying her towards one of the benches that faced the trees.

"Put your head down," Edward instructed, his syllables still clipped and angry.

"I know," she mumbled, doing just that.

She waited for the sensation to pass, counting breaths, trying to calm herself, knowing it would help with the dizziness.

As her equilibrium returned, her unease grew.

Edward remained beside her, but outside his usual arm's reach. When she dared to glance sideways, she could only see his hands, which were rigidly gripping the bench slats.

Reluctantly, she acknowledged that Edward had every right to be angry. He and his family had risked a great deal to keep her safe, and she'd flirted with disaster, giving Sam a piece of her mind.

The realization was sobering and guilt inducing.

What had she been thinking?

She hadn't. That was the short answer.

But Sam—God, Sam. The mere thought of him was a flame to the long-accumulated fuel of her rage—

"He had your neck in his hands," Edward said softly, the quaver in his voice interrupting the fire in her thoughts. "In his mind but . . . I wasn't sure if it was real for a moment. He was thinking about how easy it would be." His fingertip brushed lightly along her throat. "It would be so easy for him to solve his problems that way."

Bella sat up, the dizziness unimportant, watching the world spin, Edward with it. Forcing her eyes to stick to his frozen form, she tried to breathe away the swirling confusion in her brain. "You thought—"

"I wasn't sure. I'd rather not be presented with such possibilities."

"Oh Edward . . . I'm sorry." She really was. She'd been completely impulsive. Reckless.

The spinning didn't stop, and she put her head down again, closing her eyes, rebuking her body and her stupidity.

"I think it might be time to leave," Edward said quietly. His voice was stiff.

"Okay," Bella mumbled into her lap.

"If I help you to the car, will you stay there while I get Mer and Josh?"

"Yes," she said, feeling very, very small. She'd hurt him.

She'd damaged them.

She kept her head down in the car too, offering the barest of greetings to Josh and Meredith when they arrived.

"I told your Dad you'd call him later," Edward said.

From his tone alone, she knew he was still upset, and she didn't blame him.

She'd been stupid. Incredibly stupid.

"I'm sorry," she tried again.

"It's fine," he said. There was no touch with it. It wasn't fine. Not at all.

By the time they reached the house, Bella had recovered enough to walk inside and sit down in the kitchen, picking up and nibbling on an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen. The last thing she wanted to do was eat but having low blood sugar was not a complication she needed right now. Emmett and Rosalie had talked earlier with Mer and Josh about making a fort outside in the garden, and they all disappeared in fairly short order.

Edward's tone was still curt as he spoke from the doorway. "I'm going to hunt. I'll be back later."

She nodded, eyebrows knitted together, emotions similarly knotted inside. He never left without first making some sort of contact—a kiss, a hug, a tender touch.

When she blinked, he was gone.

She had a few moments alone, fighting against her tears, forcing herself to keep eating, knowing things would be worse if she didn't.

When Jasper appeared in the chair beside her, she didn't start. She was more accustomed to the Cullens' abrupt arrivals and departures. While they hid such startling movements from the children, they had dispensed with such pretence with Bella.

"I deserved it," she said, not doubting that the rest of the family knew what had happened and Edward's subsequent reaction.

Jasper lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgment. "Maybe . . . maybe not."

Bella laughed a little. "You are a fine, polite Southern gentleman, Jasper, but I think your kindness might be misplaced here."

"Oh, don't give my manners so much credit," he said, smiling until his lips fell into a more sombre line. "It is a remarkable strain for our kind to worry for our mates. Edward is rather alone in that experience, having a human one, and while I may not always excuse his behaviour because of it, I do understand the emotional cost."

This explanation only confused Bella.

"You remember when Edward saved you from that car crash when you first arrived in Forks?"

"Yes." Bella frowned, still not grasping his meaning.

"It sparked some considerable . . . upset, in our family. Rosalie and I both felt the possible revelation of our kind required a more . . . permanent solution."

Bella's breath caught in her throat.

"That is in the past, Bella," Jasper reassured her. "But it was only one of many times when Edward has had to deal with your mortal imperilment. I doubt it will be the last. It wears on him."

Bella thought, idly, that Jasper didn't need his gifts to alter people's emotions—his words were weapon enough.

"Carlisle argued that if we were going to do anything to protect our family, it should be because our family was worth protecting. Killing an innocent hardly seemed to make us that. We agreed, not because we thought you would keep our secret, but because it was the right thing to do. It was a sacrifice of our own security for the greater good."

"I didn't keep your secret, Jasper." There was still shame in this, even now, even after they'd repeatedly assured her of their forgiveness. That she'd been so unwise this afternoon made it all fresh again.

"No, but that wasn't my point."

Bella decided Jasper had a very roundabout, and painful way of getting to his points—not that she didn't deserve the rebuke. When he spoke his next words, she considered that perhaps it wasn't so roundabout.

"Being part of our family requires sacrifice, Bella. Sometimes, it might be small, but sometimes it's greater."

She hadn't forgotten the sacrifice they'd had to make with the Volturi. The weight of that hung silently over the entire family.

"Our feelings—emotions—are often the thing we have to give up." He lifted an eyebrow. "Because giving sway to such things often leads to rash choices."

Like angrily confronting the leader of a werewolf pack with whom your vampire family has an uneasy truce.

"Being part of our family will require many sacrifices of you, Bella, and of your children too. But there are many things to be gained, your safety and peace of mind being paramount."

She rubbed her face with her hands.

"It's not my intention to make you feel guilty."

"I know," Bella said. It would be petty on his part, and Jasper was anything but. "How do you do it?" she blurted out. "Stay so calm, knowing what you're going to have to do?"

"Serve the Volturi, you mean?" he asked.

She nodded.

If he was human, he would've shrugged, his tone was so casual. "In an immortal life, a few decades or centuries are relatively small, so long as your mate is with you."

"But—"

He looked directly at her. "It will be a price, Bella, but one I'm willing to pay for the safety of my family." He turned to let his gaze sweep the front of the property, where Emmett and Rosalie were playing with Josh and Mer. "I would not have your human lives touched by the Volturi. Nor Edward's happiness. It's worth it." He turned back to her, his impassive face unreadable.

The guilt dissolved, morphing into a resolute determination. She wasn't quite sure if it was Jasper, or herself, or a bit of them both together. She decided it didn't matter, and that if he'd helped her, accepting it graciously was thanks enough.

She nodded, and Jasper stood, mimicking the action before turning and disappearing from the room.

When Edward returned several hours later, he paused at the entranceway to their room where Bella was sitting on the bed, sorting through laundry. She normally didn't get a chance to deal with such household tasks anymore, but she had a feeling it had been left so she could—or at least so she could distract herself with it.

"Hi," she tried, eyeing him uncertainly. He'd never been angry with her like this before, or at least hadn't shown it. The steps to this dance were unknown.

"I love you," he said, suddenly beside her and taking her hand in his.

His touch made the ache inside melt. The relief was physical. "I'm so sorry—"

"I know." His arms wound around her waist, face in her hair. "I just . . . can't lose you."

"No plans on making that happen." she murmured, returning his embrace and molding herself against him as closely as she could. It was as if she could breathe again.

He groaned. "I don't doubt your intention, but your intentions aren't what worry me."

"I know," she mumbled, face pressed to his chest.

Releasing her, Edward moved so they were face to face, nudging a pile of folded shirts aside. "I think it might be best if we leave town sooner rather than later, all things considered. At least in the next week or so, and not the end of the month, as we'd planned."

Bella took in a breath and released it. She'd wanted to stay for Charlie, but after her performance today, having more space between her and Sam could only be a good thing.

"I know you don't want to leave your father right now, but I can assure you he wants nothing more than to throw himself into work and pretend this hasn't happened."

She closed her eyes. Of all the ways to deal with grief, this was one of the worst, but it was his choice to make. He would grieve in time, but to leave him—

"It's easy enough to get him to come visit. There's a direct flight out of Port Angeles," Edward said.

There was. She nodded, but she didn't want to abandon him, not now. She doubted he would visit, so their leaving would be a separation.

"Alice and Jasper will stay to watch over him."

She frowned in confusion; She'd expected Rose and Emmett. "Why?"

Edward paused before speaking. "They'll need to leave soon. It's . . . easier for them to have the time alone, before they have to do that."

She wanted to ask how soon, 'soon' was. She didn't. It could be years, or days, or decades. It meant the same thing: their absence, and the aching truth that she was the root of it. Instead, she put her arms around Edward again, as if holding onto him could hold together the fractures in their lives that were still mending and somehow ward off the others still to come.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	44. Delicate Negotiations

A/N for 2019-12-29: This will be the last post on this story for 2019. I never imagined it would take so long to write or edit it, thinking it would be all wrapped up by the end of summer. Pardon me while I laugh at myself. So, thank you to you all for sticking with it. A **giant** thank you to Eeyorefan12, for her dedication in beta-ing this story.

Happy reading. Looking forward to hearing what you think!

~ Erin

* * *

Summer in Forks was rarely what could be called hot, but this August had become abruptly so. The regular and low cloud cover sealed in the unusual heat, making for a suddenly muggy and sticky few days and nights. While this didn't bother Edward, he knew it did Bella, and it gave him the selfish opportunity to stay physically closer to her at night. Of course, it made leaving her harder, especially when he knew he _should_ hunt. He'd suggested buying an air conditioner, but Bella had said no. They'd soon be leaving for their home in Vancouver, and he knew it was a cost she didn't feel was warranted for so short a time.

Still, he suspected that it wasn't just the unnecessary expense that had kept her from accepting the offer. Since the memorial, he'd become aware that she'd set a series of reminders on her phone to eat and drink, sparing Edward the task of having to do so. She happily joined him on morning walks without her usual commentary about knowing how to keep active and he hadn't once felt he should remind her to put her feet up when she was relaxing on the sofa. He'd also noticed that she had started to spend more time chatting with the other Cullens, often enquiring about the activities of the absent family members. All were things that demonstrated her awareness of, and gratitude towards the family that was protecting her, as well as a desire to make the task as easy for them as possible.

Even so, the idea that Bella or the children were at all uncomfortable in their temporary home, even for a short time, was unacceptable to him. And when Emmett's thoughts suggested he thought his brother was refusing to buy an air conditioner because he liked having an excuse to hold Bella all night, Edward eyed Emmett shrewdly before inviting his brother on a trip to the hardware store.

Emmett had happily accepted, his mind anticipating fireworks between Bella and Edward upon their return.

When they got back, Bella was sitting in her favourite reading spot in front of the doors to the balcony. These stood open to capture the weak afternoon breeze. He watched her alternate between fanning herself with her magazine and reading it before walking over to kiss her in greeting. Not sure how to make his confession, he stepped back, feeling suddenly like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or how he assumed that would feel since stealing a cookie was not something that had crossed his mind in a hundred years . . . if ever.

"I bought something," he began.

Bella closed the magazine and set it in her lap. "Okay?"

"You've been so uncomfortable lately, and even though we talked about it I . . . decided to—"

"Completely ignore your wishes and buy you an air conditioner!" Emmett exclaimed as he practically burst into the room with the huge box in his arms. Then he just stood there, grinning gleefully at them both. Waiting.

And waiting.

Bella acknowledged Emmett by looking at him, and then turned back to Edward. Her face scrunched up in concentration for a moment before she spoke. "Thanks for helping, Emmett," she said politely and quietly, still looking at Edward.

Edward didn't need his mind-reading ability to sense Emmett's disappointment. With a large sigh, Emmett set down the box he was carrying before he turned and left.

"Um, thank you," Bella said to Edward. While the words were spoken sincerely, they were solemn too. Edward frowned at her troubled expression.

"Come sit with me?" she asked quietly.

He did, waiting with equal parts curiosity and concern for her to speak.

"I made a huge mistake the other day," she began. "I get that. I'm trying to get my head wrapped around how I got there, so I don't get there again." A bitter smile flickered on her face. "I suppose I can finally find some value in all that psychotherapy I thought had been for nothing."

Her words left Edward confused. He'd spoken harshly after the funeral—and he'd needed to at the time—but where this was coming from, he had no clue. Following his return from his much-needed hunt that evening, they had not talked of the event again.

Bella continued speaking. "I _am_ trying to get my priorities in order, and I understand I have some damage to repair. I just—I don't want us to fall back into patterns that were not good for us—"

"Bella," Edward said, gently interrupting her. "I bought an air-conditioner because I didn't want you to be hot and so you can rest better at night. I'd have bought one for the children, too, if they were at all uncomfortable in their sleep, but they seem to be fine. I'm not sure what you're interpreting this to mean—" he paused, abruptly realizing she might have taken Emmett's tone-deaf sense of humour the wrong way. "You don't think I'm trying to be petty or vengeful, do you?"

"No!" she said. "Never." She shook her head for emphasis. "But I wouldn't blame if you'd thought that my judgement was becoming questionable, or unreliable—"

"Not at all." He spoke the words firmly. He took one of her hands in both of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't even consider that possible interpretation."

This time, Bella's smile was still small, but genuine. "No, most people wouldn't. Sorry, that habit is going to take a long time to break."

He squeezed her fingers, and she squeezed his back. "What did you mean by falling back into patterns that aren't good for us?"

She sighed. "I don't feel like I have a lot of moral high ground to argue from about . . . areas for growth, behaviour-wise."

"That sounds like something you would write on a report card." Edward teased gently, trying to lighten the moment. "It's okay. Tell me."

"I suppose it was a product of our differences in age and experience. When we were first together you could be very . . . high-handed, at times."

Yes, he had been.

She went on: "And I was very young, and didn't know how to stand up for myself. Or even that I should."

Also true. He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

She rubbed her thumb and forefinger over the ring finger of his left hand. "And when we first talked about getting married, we agreed to discuss our larger purchases. Together."

They had. He opened his mouth to say as much, but she kept talking.

"But you also promised you would protect me. And I accepted that. I also know that I've made that job a lot more difficult for you. That I've complicated things with the wolves in a way that I could have easily avoided." She swallowed, the motion of her fingers coming more quickly and less evenly. She was more than nervous. She was anxious.

He brought his hand over her twitching fingers to still them. "I doubt that either of us have made our last mistakes in our relationship." He didn't want to minimize the gravity of her rash action, but he also wanted her to keep it in perspective.

"Sorry," Bella said. He could smell her tears.

His hand travelled to cup and cool her cheek. "I did not buy an air-conditioner to make you cry."

"No, I didn't think so," Bella said, laughing and crying at the same time. She wiped her hand across her eyes. "I know that I'm still learning how to be with you in a way that's healthy. I don't need to be afraid of you controlling me. I know you've changed. I'm just getting there more slowly. Much more slowly."

Edward sighed, sliding his arm around her. "I can return the thing, you know."

"No," Bella said, her voice muffled as she turned into his chest. "I'm really hot."

It was all Edward could do to keep a straight face as several minds downstairs reacted to Bella's double-entendre. Emmett's whispered "That's what she said!" earned him a slap to the back of the head from Rosalie.

"In so very many ways, yes," Edward said, ignoring his family and nudging Bella's head up with his own for a kiss.

She giggled. "Emmett's jokes are rubbing off on you."

Edward rolled his eyes and grinned. "Emmett feels cheated. He was all ready to make pop-corn and sell tickets to the Great Air Conditioner battle."

Bella shook her head. "I'm not sorry for disappointing him."

"Me either." He turned his head, projecting his voice so Emmett would know for whom his next comment was intended. "But you were supposed to be the only one crying."

There was a distant, booming, "As if!"

As preparations for their return to Vancouver were underway, there was an increased sense of urgency in the Cullen household, but also a general feeling that they were leaving things undone. Chief among the concerns was the current situation with the Quileutes. Although there had been no contact between them since the incident at Sue's memorial, Edward knew as well as the rest of the family that Sam and the pack believed the Cullens were at fault not only for Sue's death but for not keeping their territory safe enough. Now they would be leaving again and the thought of yet another conversation with Sam over their failings was not a good one.

Although Edward still tried to take a patrol shift occasionally, his concern for Bella and the children kept him close to home more than the others. For weeks, even before what had happened, he had even been hunting nearer the house than he normally would, forcing himself to feed on whatever meager wildlife was available in the surrounding woods or simply going without more often than not. It was unsustainable, though, and he knew it. He needed to keep up his strength to be at his best for both surveillance and in the event of an attack from Victoria.

It was for that reason that he decided to join Alice and Jasper for their hunt that evening. And the moment he made the decision, Alice leaped up from her seat in the living room.

"Edward! What are you thinking about?"

He could see the vision in her head at almost the same moment. The three siblings, standing frozen in the forest in a place he recognized was several miles east of the house, and listening to something . . . no, someone. Someone related in some way to Victoria.

Jasper was already on his feet, clearly reading the situation even without the benefit of seeing the vision. Edward cast a glance upstairs to where Bella and Esme were getting the children ready for bed.

"Go. I'll catch up."

Alice and Jasper headed for the door, she explaining rapidly what she had seen. Edward dashed upstairs, passing Esme as she was heading down the hall to collect the children's pajamas. He knew she had heard the conversation downstairs and he smiled his gratitude as she silently assured him that she would watch over the little family upstairs while he was gone.

The moment Bella saw him, she seemed to know what he planned to say. She paused in her reading to Meredith and Josh and he saw her swallow hard before she gave him a brave smile. "You have to go." she said. It was not a question.

"Yes, I . . . we'll be back as soon as we can."

"Man." Josh said solemnly.

He didn't have time to do or say what he wanted. Instead, he ran his hand briefly over Josh's head, then Meredith's, before he leaned down to give Bella a chaste kiss. It would have to be enough. Still, it felt as if he was tearing himself in half as he turned and left the room and then the house.

He caught up to Jasper and Alice quickly. The terrain was already familiar to the three of them, as were its sounds and smells. So when a new and alarming scent suddenly wafted downwind, they froze in place. Edward quickly spotted the similarity of their surroundings to Alice's vision The offshore wind kept them safe from being scented, but they were too close to keep moving without being heard by another of their kind.

Edward looked at Alice, wondering if she could see anything new but she shook her head, frowning in concentration. He tapped a finger to his temple to indicate that he was hearing thoughts.

And what he heard chilled him.

His instinct was to run back to his mate, plant himself at the door to their room, and snarl at any harm that might come near. But he made himself be still, listening to the things that made his innards turn to ice.

Someone had found the Cullens' scents. Now the thoughts were weaving plans to find the origins of those scents, and destroy them. One of Victoria's helpers was tantalizingly close. If they could find them and catch them—

_Stay here!_ Jasper warned silently, picking up on Edward's emotional response

Edward's gaze snapped to his siblings, where he watched Alice's lips move noiselessly as she explained what she was seeing to Jasper. The new visions were only fragments of what Edward was hearing but at least it was something.

Jasper directed more of his thoughts at Edward. _If it is one of her helpers, then we have a perfect opportunity to hear their plans, and to let them think we'll be caught unaware._

The logic of his brother's thoughts doused Edward's more feral urges. Yes, Jasper was right. Letting this creature go would be to their advantage. Reining in his conflicting desires, he remained taut and still, absorbing every thought Victoria's creature produced.

The young vampire wasn't quite a newborn, but was still new enough to this life to have the scattered thought-patterns Edward associated with them. The near-newborn's inability to focus meant that Edward received far more information than he would expect from an older, more disciplined vampire, but it came in a jumble of disjointed ideas and images that Edward would need to sort out later.

What he could make out for now made him shake his head in frustration. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't heard it himself. The man's musings seemed incredible to him, especially since Edward could see how they could be effective. He found himself stretching his focus to its limits, working to gain whatever he could.

Jasper's hand snaked out to take Alice's hand, a whisper of flesh in the noisy night air. The other mind didn't notice it, too preoccupied with scouting the area. Edward knew Jasper's gesture as one that signalled his awareness of his wife's visions. With his attention divided between all the minds present, he could see Alice's future flickers, and he understood the reasons for her distress.

Alice's thoughts were a pastiche of violent images featuring vivid red eyes, gnashing teeth and dismembering hands. Nearly all the images featured some of the Cullens' bodies in pieces, strewn over the ground sparkling in sunlight. Alice shuddered beside them.

Edward continued to listen until he felt himself straining to hear, as the young vampire's thoughts at first grew dim and then petered out to nothing. Free to speak, he opened his mouth, but Jasper's voice broke the night air first.

"When?" Jasper whispered. With his gifts, he didn't have to ask what. He'd seen and felt enough of his wife's reactions to know it was bad.

"Soon. The leaves still look the same, and it will be sunny and cool."

"Next week," Edward muttered. He'd been following the weather out of concern for Bella. The heat was supposed to break sometime next week, when a small cold-front would move in off the pacific. "Let's go," he whispered. He needn't have said it aloud. Alice and Jasper were already turned to face home. Their run was silent and purposeful, faces grim.

Esme asked, "Did you find them?" as soon as they walked into the living room.

Edward shook his head, running upstairs to see Bella first. He'd been afraid that she would worry too much to go to bed but thankfully, he found her sound asleep, twisted up in tangled sheets which were half-on and half-off. The new air conditioner hummed away in the window where he had installed it, keeping the room nicely cool, but his girl was still a decidedly restless sleeper. He untangled a corner of the sheet and brought it up to cover her. She would kick it off soon enough, but he didn't like the pimpling gooseflesh over her arms.

Alice and Jasper were sharing what they knew downstairs, and he knew he needed to flesh out the many holes in their knowledge. There wasn't much time left tonight, either, before Emmett and Rosalie needed to leave to follow Charlie home from a visit to Seth and his family. But the woman he loved was before him, and he felt easier just being in her physical presence. He took a few extra moments to let the calm wash over him before he shook his head and forced himself to leave his mate for the second time that night. There were things to attend to, and they were equally as important, if only to assure that he would continue to have Bella in his life for as long as fate allowed.

The remainder of his vampire family sat at the dining room table, laptops closed, bodies still. Their eyes followed him to his seat.

"What did you learn?" Carlisle asked.

Edward prefaced his words with an intake of breath that he wished could soothe him. All it did was draw in the scents of those he loved, reminding him just how much rested on what he'd gathered in the woods.

"Victoria has an army of newborns, and she's sending them after us here. Sometime next week."

Carlisle was the only one who reacted by folding his hands together on the table in front of him, the human habit so well ingrained as to be near-instinctual. The rest of them wore their distress on their faces in wrinkled brows and tight jaws. Jasper had explained that there was some sort of attack coming, but an army . . .

Edward paused to finish gathering his thoughts. He needed to tell them how she'd managed to not just to accrue so many helpers, but more importantly, how she was managing them. The snippets of information he'd stolen in the forest had now coalesced in a way that he could understand it more clearly.

"We were right about the reports of the missing people in the area. She's been choosing them carefully. I'm not sure how she's getting her information on them, but they're all people with living families, and close family ties. Ties they've managed to hold onto even as newborns." He shook his head. It was so counter to everything they knew to be true about vampire culture, especially in newborns who were so strongly ruled by instinct and bloodlust that their past lives were usually quickly obscured. Everyone at this table was aware of how difficult it was to hang onto the memories and emotional connections of their former lives. It took curation to keep those bonds alive. Victoria would have had to work very hard to do this, unless she could possibly have a helper with gifts as the Volturi did, but the chances of that seemed slim.

His family's thoughts pulled him away from these speculations. They were waiting on more of his insights. "She's told them that we are a coven of vampires who are anathema to our kind. An abomination. We," and he laughed bitterly, "torture our human prey before drinking from them, as well as hunting indiscriminately, taking any human we please, regardless of the consequences." He wasn't sure how this aspect was credible even to these largely isolated newborns, but the one he'd heard certainly believed Victoria. "But the lie that really keeps them in line is that we hunt the relations of those newly turned, as a means of exerting our control."

"It's a brilliant strategy," Jasper said.

Rose's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"It is," Jasper insisted. "She's bought them on moral and emotional grounds, and the people who are most likely to discredit her are the ones she's made them hate. All they've likely known of our kind is her."

"She's told them that she chose them because they were pure of heart and knew that they would help her," Edward added. "They know we killed James, but obviously not the circumstances around his death. She has told them that she created them out of desperation. Which she did." He shook his head. "Her army of the pure-hearted."

"Are they?" Esme asked. She was worried that this was a true description, and that they would be forced to kill creatures who might otherwise be convinced to live peaceful, immortal lives.

And here was more of Victoria's brilliance. So far as Edward had seen, they were. The man he'd heard had been a nurse as a human. In even considering his choice of prey, which his hunger had driven him to hunt for, he'd wrestled with his bloodlust, trying to reason where he would find people whose actions and station ranked them lower in his warped, moral hierarchy. Edward didn't answer Esme's question aloud but he could tell by her thoughts that his silence had done it for him. He gave her an empathetic smile.

"How many of them are there?" Emmett asked.

Alice answered this. "It's hard to say. It keeps changing, but . . . twenty?"

"And you can see them?" Esme asked. "I thought—"

"I don't know how," Alice said. "I still haven't seen _her_, but when we smelled him, I could suddenly see things."

"Could it be a ruse?" Carlisle asked. "Someone playing with the limitations of your vision?"

"I suppose," Alice said, looking at Jasper, squeezing his hand. Edward could hear the frustration in her thoughts, her sense that she wasn't protecting the family well enough. He briefly reflected on the burdens each of them privately carried but no one so much as Alice; when he caught her eye, she sent him a silent 'thank you' for his concern.

"I don't see how it serves them to let us see them coming, unless they aren't, and they want us prepared so they can attack on another front?" Jasper frowned.

"They've already tested the wolves," Rose said. "Or our alliance with the wolves, which is practically non-existent."

Edward's head snapped up. He'd assumed that Victoria had been torturing Bella with Sue's death, but perhaps it was more. Perhaps they were testing just how tight the ties were between them. The treaty was on the thinnest of terms. If Sue could fall through that crack, what else could? Was Victoria simply testing to see how weak they were? He asked as much.

Jasper nodded grimly. "It makes sense."

"Then we need to repair that gap and ask for the wolves' help," Carlisle said softly. He eyed Alice, who had already shared with the family the various grim versions of what she'd seen.

While the sky was beginning to lighten, it was still too early to contact Sam, and their request would need to be carefully crafted.

So it was that when the sun rose, Josh was the first human occupant to rise with it.

"Man!" he said when he found Edward standing before the windows in the family room, staring out at nothing. It was clear to Josh that he was not receiving the attention he was due and he gave Edward's arm a tentative pat.

"Sorry," Edward said to Josh. "I was just thinking about something." He was thinking about so many things. "But I see that my favorite little boy is here. How would you like some pancakes?"

Josh's delighted grin was just the thing Edward needed right then.

Bella woke before Meredith, walking slowly down the stairs towards the living room and kitchen.

"There you are," she said, greeting Edward with a kiss. She looked with affection at her son who was sitting at the table with Edward's culinary prowess in front of him, drizzled with just the right amount of maple syrup.

"Pancakes! Mom, pancakes!"

She gave Josh a quick peck on the top of his head, avoiding his sticky hands.

"Morning," Edward murmured, standing to indicate that she should take a seat at the table.

Bella's forehead crinkled. He could see in her face that he was in no way convincing her that everything was alright. "How did . . . things go?" she mouthed.

He smiled, or attempted to. "Why don't you eat something, and then I'll fill you in after."

Bella frowned. It was the face that said she didn't like being managed, especially since she'd been so good about this lately, but she obviously knew him well enough to know that there would be no point in arguing. "Okay," she said, going to the fridge and pulling out a hard-boiled egg, completely ignoring the bowl of pancake batter on the counter. She ate the egg rapidly, and then grabbed a glass of water, drinking it just as quickly. "I've eaten. What's going on?"

"Josh," Rose called from down the hall, "do you want to help me fix the jeep?"

"Help!" Josh replied, hopping up from his unfinished second pancake.

Bella didn't object to this normally objectionable behaviour, eyeing Edward warily.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked again.

As Edward came close to Bella, he drew her to the corner and the two upholstered chairs by the windows. "We caught a break in our search but It's not good news," he murmured.

"I can tell," she said. She kept a firm grip on his hand as they faced each other.

Edward explained what they'd learned, trying to balance offering the truth while keeping back the uglier details. His efforts were not as effective as he'd hoped for.

Bella's heart rate had risen by the time he was done. "Okay," she whispered, face pale. "So, they're coming. What's the plan?"

"We're going to ask the wolves for help." The words fell flat out of his mouth. He wasn't at all certain of the pack's cooperation.

She winced. "I'm so sorry. If I hadn't—"

He shook his head. "No. We've all made mistakes. There's no point in rehashing them." There wasn't really; he could reassure her of at least this. There was little else he could reassure her of at this moment.

She cupped his face with her hands. "You are very chivalrous in dismissing what I did, but I don't want to pretend it didn't happen, or that it wasn't a mistake. Being honest about these things gives us clarity in looking forward through this, together."

Together. Yes, they were together in this mess. He just needed a way to remove them all from it.

When Carlisle phoned Sam later that morning to ask for a meeting, the pack leader didn't answer conventionally, saying, "Were my words in some way unclear last time, or did you not figure out we didn't need to talk unless it's an emergency?"

As always, Carlisle was unflappable. "As it happens, there is something that falls into that category, but I'd rather not trust it to a phone call. Can we meet in person?"

Sam grumbled out his agreement and the details of their meeting point and time later that evening.

Edward dreaded it, moving through the day like a condemned man. He fully expected Sam to say no. After all, what incentive did they have to keep Victoria's helpers at bay? The Cullens would decimate the newborns' numbers, but the wolves could easily eliminate the remaining ones who slipped through. It could solve many of Sam's problems but only if he'd agree. As for other help, there were only the Denalis, and the hope on that front was even thinner.

With Emmett and Rose away, it was again Carlisle and Edward who went to meet the wolf pack, leaving the rest of the family (and their best strategist in Jasper) at the house. As Edward and his father moved through the forest to the reservation, Carlisle brought up the suggestion Edward had heard him ruminating on for most of the day.

_I believe we need to make a decision before we speak with Sam. _

Edward nodded. He could already hear where this was going.

_In order for Sam to believe us, it will probably become necessary to tell him about your gift. The wolves are still unaware of it?_

_"_They seem to be," Edward replied. "Bella believes she never said anything to Jacob about my ability—although she did tell him about Alice and Jasper."

_Interesting._

Edward nodded. "I think . . . even after the pain I caused her then, she was still trying to protect me, in her own way."

_It sounds that way, _Carlisle agreed. _And I know your talent has always given the family a strategic advantage in situations such as this one but I'm not sure Sam will be convinced of our true intentions unless we're prepared to share this information. I'd like your permission to do so._

Edward nodded. "You never have to ask, Carlisle. Of course we'll tell them if you think it will help our cause."

They arrived at the meeting place soon after. It was somewhat disconcerting that Sam had chosen to surround himself with no fewer than eight pack members—in wolf form—but they knew it to be a show of force and had no grounds to object.

"Thank you for meeting us," Carlisle said. "I'll get right to the point."

"That's a relief," Sam said sardonically.

Carlisle ignored him. Edward divided his own attention so that he could monitor the thoughts of the wolves in the clearing. So far they were of one mind, all of them feeling frustrated that Sam had ordered them to stand down for the time being.

Carlisle went on. "We have already told you about the female vampire who is carrying a grudge against our family for killing her mate and that we believe she is responsible for Sue Clearwater's death. We have learned that she is creating an army of new vampires-possibly as many as twenty of them. We have also become aware of a plan to attack our family in order to get to Bella and her children, and we have come to ask for your help."

"Become aware how?" Sam wanted to know. Edward could hear the skepticism in his thoughts.

"Edward, Alice, and Jasper came upon one of them in the woods yesterday evening." Carlisle was playing this close to the vest, Edward thought. He was still reluctant to give away any advantage his son's mind-reading could offer them in the future. But Edward could already hear the way Sam's thoughts were going and he knew the revelation was inevitable. Sam's mind was suddenly full of questions.

"Did they kill it?"

"No."

"What the hell?!" Sam snarled at Edward incredulously. "They killed Sue!"

"This one wasn't involved," Edward said calmly, then added, "He thinks _we _killed her."

_You did._ Sam didn't say it out loud, so Edward didn't respond to the cheap shot.

"So," Sam began,his voice heavy with sarcasm, "you expect me to believe this random leech just shared his boss' plans with you? Like, what . . . some kind of professional courtesy?"

It was time. Carlisle glanced apologetically at Edward, who nodded his agreement, before he answered Sam. "Edward heard his thoughts."

This threw Sam for a moment. "Wait . . . you can all hear each other? Like we . . . like you read each others' minds?" Edward didn't miss the near-slip.

"Not exactly." Carlisle answered him. "It's a gift only Edward has."

"That's convenient," Sam snorted. "So, you want us to back you in a fight and all of a sudden, the one who has the most to lose develops the ability to read the minds of other bloodsuckers?"

"Anyone's." Edward corrected him.

"Anyone's what?"

"I can read anyone's mind."

Sam was nearly laughing at how ridiculous he thought the idea was. "You expect me to believe this? That you have this amazing skill no other vampire has to hear what people think?"

Edward sighed. "Believe it or don't . . . but surely you are aware that such abilities exist. It's not much different than your ability to communicate with other members of your pack when you're in wolf form."

Sam stared at him, startled. "What?"

"You heard me correctly."

Sam was struggling for an explanation. "H-how do you know about that? Did Bella hear it from Jacob? Did _she _tell you?"

"She didn't have to," Edward said. "I can hear any of you . . . in any form."

Sam was clearly thrown. Edward had been in this situation only a handful of times in his century of life, where he had chosen to share knowledge of his gift, and he waited impatiently as Sam's mind cycled through the typical thought patterns: first, identifying his past interactions with Edward to find evidence of his claim, then rifling through those situations to determine what he might have let slip that made him or the wolves more vulnerable. Finally, he came to the conclusion Edward expected and had been hoping for-that if this was true, the Cullens had an advantage that made them infinitely more dangerous and it might be in his and the pack's best interest to cooperate with them.

But first, Sam would test his claimed ability. Edward expected nothing less.

_So, you can hear me right now? _Sam thought at him.

Edward resisted rolling his eyes and nodded carefully instead.

_How many of you will be fighting?_

"As many as we can spare," Edward told him, assuming Carlisle would glean most of the conversation from his spoken responses. "We will need to continue to watch Charlie and Bella but if we can arrange for them to be together, most of us will fight. If your pack joined us, we would have more than enough to defeat an inexperienced group."

Sam's expression became thoughtful . . . even cagey. _What if we said we'd watch both Charlie and Bella for you? And her kids? _

The suggestion was ludicrous to Edward, especially when he could hear the motivation behind the offer. "No! Absolutely not!"

"Edward?" Carlisle was concerned now.

"Sam is suggesting that we leave my family with some of the wolves while we fight."

Sam let out a derisive snort. "Well, one thing's for sure—I believe you now about the mind-reading thing. But, here you are, asking for our help and I make one request . . . "

"I am not handing over my fiancee and her children as ransom!" Edward spat back at him.

Carlisle, ever the peacemaker, made an attempt to calm him. "Perhaps ransom is too strong a word, Edward. If Sam is offering their help . . . "

"Ransom is _exactly _the correct word," Edward countered. "Isn't it, Sam?"

Sam smiled and shrugged, enjoying the feeling that he was gaining some power back. "If you Cullens want our help, we need to know that you'll keep your end of the bargain."

Less consciously, Sam was thinking about where he could stow his newest and least predictable wolves. They were too new to be safe in battle, but he seemed to think they would be safe guarding Bella. It made Edward's skin crawl.

But he could hear Carlisle's thoughts as well, now only directed at him.

_We may not have the luxury of refusing help from an ally, as uncomfortable as it may seem. Son, think of Bella._

What else could he possibly be thinking of?

He nodded, his jaw tight. "We will . . . consider it." he said through his teeth.

"We're very grateful for your help," Carlisle said to Sam. "Thank you for meeting with us. We'll contact you tomorrow to discuss the next steps in preparing."

Carlisle's more urgent thoughts tugged Edward away and he followed his father into the night before his ire could undermine the tenuous help they had secured at such an unacceptable cost.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	45. Tin Soldiers

Posting date: 2020-01-12

A note from my beta: I am currently in the Caribbean, riding out a storm at sea while fighting finicky wifi and under the influence of piña coladas so readers might need to be a little more forgiving of grammatical or other issues this time around.

And from me: When I started writing fanfiction, I didn't work with a beta. While I would proofread my work before posting, I had no frame of reference for the amount of work a beta (editor) puts into a piece - or just how much back and forth there could be in working on a piece of writing. In fact, I remember thinking, seeing people post about their stories on facebook, "Hasn't that story been going for a year, now? What's taking so long?" Well, having the pleasure of working with my (amazing) beta, I get it now. And I'm very, very grateful for the way she makes this story a million times better.

Happy reading, folks. We're always keen to hear what you think about this tale.

Erin

* * *

Edward was preoccupied. He was so focused, in fact, on his conversation with Jasper, that he didn't hear Josh stir until his little feet thudded onto the floor upstairs. Josh had recently become an adept climber, now able to swing a leg over the rail of his crib and clamber down to liberty. Knowing that Bella's youngest might come searching for his 'Man', rather than his mother, Edward returned his attention to his brother and glanced down at the collection of tin soldiers on the coffee table between them. It was a very old set, a relic of Edward's human life. He wasn't exactly sure why he had brought them downstairs for this strategy discussion, although the amused reaction from Jasper had been worth the effort. Josh had been entranced with the figurines when he had spotted them the prior morning. Edward picked one up now, holding it gently between his fingertips. The grenadier uniform was cast in obvious detail. In one of those quirks of Vampire memory, Edward could recall his distinct childhood annoyance at having been given such an obviously foreign set, inferior in its uniqueness from those of his friends. Being set apart had irked him.

And yet, it was this uniqueness that had fascinated Josh. He had seen images of soldiers on television, and these tiny, formally dressed men with large, long hats were strange. Bella had frowned at the obvious rifle each toy soldier carried but had not objected beyond that. Edward knew she didn't like the children playing with anything weapon-like, or having them watch any of the violent video games Emmett and Jasper enjoyed playing.

Edward sighed. He wished his worries were so simple as to involve what he should or should not let Josh play with or see as a growing boy. Try as they might, he and Jasper could find no way to work around the odds Victoria's large army presented. Their chances of success in facing her alone were so small as to be nonexistent.

Josh's thumping steps and final jump announced his descent down the stairs. Two-year-olds, Edward had learned, could produce an amount of noise vastly disproportionate to their body size.

Josh was very pleased with himself. Despite his ability to get out of his crib, he'd only lately mastered walking down the stairs, having needed the confidence of an adult's hand before that. He loved jumping to the floor from the bottom of the stairs, too, but his mother was less fond of it, particularly when he was two or three or four treads from the bottom.

"Play," Josh observed as he entered the room, his eyes focused on the tin toys on the table. He moved quietly towards Edward but slowed as he approached, his gaze flicking briefly to Jasper. He wasn't so certain of Edward's brother, about whom he felt some formless caution.

Edward listened, trying to tease out an order or logic to the metaphors in Josh's brain. Josh was thinking of Bubbles in conjunction with Jasper. This puzzled Edward until Josh recalled a memory of Bubble's claws, and a hissing snarl that had preceded a painful scratch. Ah, yes. The boy was not so devoid of normal human instincts if he feared some of their kind.

"Good morning, Josh," Jasper said politely, rising smoothly from his seat on the couch and directing a gentle smile at Bella's son. He then told Edward silently, _We can talk more about this later._

"Thank you for your efforts," Edward responded. "I don't think we'll find much different, though."

Jasper's smile turned sad and apologetic. They had considered strategy after strategy, each defeated by their coven's small size and the need to protect Bella and her family. No amount of weaponry, trickery, or difficult terrain would give them the advantage they so clearly needed to defeat Victoria's amassed force.

"We'll need help," Edward mumbled. Sam may have agreed to assist them, but Edward would exhaust all other possibilities before he left his mate and her children in the hands of wolves—and adolescent ones at that.

"Help?" Josh asked. He looked towards the empty tin that normally housed the soldiers. He was excited to have pulled the word from Edward's quick speech, but disappointed no one had moved to include him in their game. He remembered how Emmett had clashed the figurines together when Edward had first brought them out, making what Josh thought were funny sounds.

"We don't need to clean up yet, but I think you should visit the bathroom and have breakfast before we play."

Josh frowned, huffing out a breath. He did not like this proposed ordering of his morning.

"First bathroom and breakfast, then playing," Edward reiterated.

Still frowning, Josh turned and thumped more purposefully towards the bathroom.

The day wore on, its patterns largely dictated by the needs of the house's human habitants. And while Edward had told Bella that the wolves had agreed to help, he hadn't given the terms or explained that they hadn't yet accepted them. There was no need to concern her if a more palatable option became available.

Not they had the luxury of time, or of being choosy about their allies.

_No response yet_, Carlisle thought at Edward.

Sitting beside Bella at the table as she chatted quietly with Esme, Edward lowered his gaze briefly—his version of a nod.

_We may not have help to accept, if we don't accept it soon,_ Jasper reminded Edward from his place next to Carlisle.

Edward repeated his downward glance. Then he turned his head to find Bella staring at him in concentration.

"Care to share?" she asked him, a hint of a smirk on her face.

"Not right now." he murmured. Bella might not be able to see his motions but had clearly determined that his stillness was also suspect. He reminded himself once again that he should never underestimate her intuition.

"Hmm," Bella said, eyeing him in a way that told him she'd be pressing him for the truth when they were in private.

The chirp from Carlisle's phone barely had time to sound before he answered it. "Tanya, thank you for returning my call." He stood, his words fading from human hearing as he walked outside to the far edge of the deck, the door clicking shut behind him.

Edward, along with every other Cullen present, listened to both parts of the conversation. So much weighed on this phone call, and they were all so intent on hearing the outcome that they all became noticeably still. It did not go unnoticed.

"Are you playing statues?" Meredith piped up. "And can I play, too?" She popped the cap back on her marker, neatly stowing her colouring book and markers in the basket Esme had set aside for her.

"Absolutely," Bella said. "Let's go play in the living room." She nodded to Edward as she stood up and he gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. Yes, she understood that there was greater significance to this call.

"I'll join you," Esme said, holding out a hand to Josh.

"Man, play?" Josh asked.

"In a little while," he promised Josh.

Edward could hear everything that passed between Tanya and Carlisle, yet he still found himself hoping, though more and more in vain, as each word made more absolute the Cullens' solitude in facing Victoria's wrath.

Tanya's words suddenly seemed louder than the rest of the conversation had been. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. Truly, I am. But Irina . . . well, she's not here right now, so I can speak frankly: She still blames you in part for Laurent's death. She sees your inaction against the wolves as siding with them. She's still so angry, I can't ask her to help in this fight, and if you can have help from those quarters, I think you should accept it. I'm sure you understand . . ."

Carlisle sighed. "Yes, I do."

"We want to repair our relationship, Carlisle. Honestly, I . . . we do want that, but this isn't the way."

Edward watched Carlisle put his phone back in his pocket and then stare out over the river. His father would know that the rest of his family, barring those with human ears, would have heard his conversation.

It was the wolves, or nothing.

Beyond that, Edward knew that the Denalis' sense of betrayal burdened Carlisle. Once Edward had known about Laurent's attack on Bella, they'd tried reaching out to their cousins with the new evidence, but the news had been just as unwelcome as before. Irina refused to believe that Laurent would break faith with them or their ways. She had gone so far as to say that perhaps Bella truly was mentally unwell, if she believed Laurent had tried to attack her. Edward had been glad that Carlisle had held that phone conversation with the Denalis when he was away from the house. He didn't want to widen the gap between them and their cousins further, but just hearing about the maligning of his mate after the fact brought all his protective instincts to the fore.

As Carlisle turned, he locked eyes with Edward. _We need to agree to the wolves' terms, and quickly._

Edward looked away. Yes, they did. A tremor rippled over his body. Even his flesh dreaded the idea as much as his mind did. His gaze lingered over the pool of soldiers on the dining room carpet, now regrouped according to Josh's specifications. If such an alliance kept them safe, then it was worth his anxiety and dread.

Unwanted, the image of Emily Uley's scarred face appeared in his thoughts, quickly morphing into Bella's face, but with the angry lines of scar tissue still in place. It was quickly replaced with a new image of Bella's lifeless body, drained and ravaged by vampire teeth.

Yes, they would accept the wolves' help. Even if he had to make peace with fears he wanted no bargain with, they would.

\- ooo 0000 ooo -

Bella knew that Edward tried to keep anything distressing, and particularly the supernaturally-distressing, from touching her and her children's lives. And towards that effort, he and Bella habitually remained silent on all but mundane matters until the children were in bed. Today though, she'd struggled with this principle, wanting to ask him about Carlisle's phone call as soon as the children were outside playing in the yard. At the same time, she hadn't wanted to upset the balance they were finding again. Her own judgement still felt rocky and unpredictable.

So she had waited. Impatiently. Doing her best to appear patient. She almost held her breath when Edward finally came to sit beside her in the kitchen after putting Josh to bed. Her youngest was going through a phase that required either Edward or Bella to be near him as he approached sleep, one of their hands in his. It didn't take long for him to go to sleep, but tonight it had felt like a small part of forever.

She forced herself to take what felt like an ordinary breath in, releasing it and looking at Edward, refusing to start asking questions. He would talk when he was ready. It would not do to push.

"Everything went alright with Meredith?" he asked.

"Mm-hm."

"No worries about racoons tonight?"

Bella knew that Edward would have heard all of her and Meredith's conversation that evening, but she also knew he liked to talk with her about the children. It let them problem-solve together, as well as simply enjoy the work of parenting. If she hadn't been so worked up and anxious about Carlisle's phone call, she could have filled a half-hour with talk of Meredith's newly-acquired fear of racoons, resulting from a recent nightmare.

"Just the usual," Bella assured him, hoping he would bring up the topic she wanted to discuss.

Edward frowned. While becoming a parent with Josh had come so naturally, he had struggled with Meredith. And as with all things that confounded Edward, Bella had watched him respond with studious efforts. Several serious texts devoted to child psychology and development had appeared on his bed-side table, and Bella could tell he was about to start pulling apart what he'd no doubt overheard in Meredith's dream memories and conversation.

"What was Carlisle's phone call about?" Bella blurted out.

She watched Edward's face fall slightly.

It would be easier, she knew, to tackle a five-year old's fear that a raccoon would come into the house and attack her, rather than think about the army of vampires that was preparing to destroy them. She did not blame him for seeking a momentary escape. If parenting could be called an escape. And it needed doing, even when you weren't certain you would be alive to be doing it past the next week.

"Carlisle asked the Denalis for their help. They declined."

He did not elaborate as to the reasons why, though Bella could imagine the ones he'd given before still remained in effect.

"But we still have the pack's help," he said, almost as an afterthought.

"And what does Sam want in return for their...help?" She asked

Edward hadn't suggested any trades had been requested, but she couldn't fathom there being enough good will for the pack to support them without some benefit for themselves.

Edward shook his head. "Nothing. It serves them to do so. They're sworn to protect their people. Destroying an army of vampires so near their territory moves them towards that goal."

Bella considered this for a moment. His answer made sense, but there was something in the way he said it that didn't quite sit right. Bella couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Okay." She set aside her wondering, too mindful of her nerves as she asked the next question. "Where should I plan on being with the children during the . . . ?" She wasn't quite sure what to call it, and the words her mind suggested made her gut twist in unpleasant ways.

Edward nodded once, looking as if he had come to some sudden agreement. He wasn't looking at her as he continued. "Sam is working on something so that you and Charlie and the children are invited to stay at the reservation for the day. Some of the members of the pack would stay nearby . . . as a precaution."

In case they failed, Bella finished for him. But the reservation? She never expected to hear Edward sanctioning her staying there.

"You will all be perfectly safe there."

Then it clicked. The robotic tone. He wasn't trying to share information with her. He was trying to convince himself that this was a good plan.

Since Edward had told her of Alice's vision she'd been trying to think of how best to support what the Cullens were doing, and how best she might keep herself and the children safe. Staying somewhere far away and keeping to themselves had been all she could come up with. It seemed that the Cullens thought the same. Apparently, the wolves had agreed.

Clearly, Edward didn't like this plan, but if it was the best option available, she needed to put his mind at ease about it.

She slid her hand into his. "That sounds like a very logical plan."

To the casual observer, his glance would seem just that, casual, but Bella knew he was assessing her entire reaction: her heart rate, her breathing, the way her eyebrows got a wrinkle in between them when she worried. Her face felt relaxed. She hoped it looked that way.

"It will be good to have Dad there," she added. "He needs to have company right now, and spending time with him before we go back home will be good for him."

It would be good, she thought, if they all lived.

If.

She knew how big an if that was.

Edward's fingers curled softly around hers and he turned his head to face her fully. "You're not worried about things being at all awkward, being on the reservation?"

"No," she said, shrugging. "If you think it's a good idea for us to be there, and Sam wants us there, I'm sure he will make sure it isn't awkward. After all, it keeps Charlie and the kids and me in one place, which frees the rest of you up to do what you need to do."

"It does," Edward said. His expression had relaxed from the look of tense resolve that had been there before.

Better, Bella decided. He felt better about this plan. Good.

But the kiss they brought their lips to was too firm, too urgent, and felt too desperate for there to be any comfort or certainty. Not yet.

\- ooo 0000 ooo -

It was three days later when the weather outside and Alice's visions finally correlated. Everything the Cullens could think of to prepare themselves for a confrontation with Victoria's army was taken care of and the wolves' portion of responsibility, including the invitation to Charlie, had been coordinated.

"Maybe you should head to bed?" Edward suggested that evening. He watched Bella press the last tupperware lid down on the container of food she'd prepared. While Edward and the other Cullens had taken on much of the cooking of late, she'd been busy in the kitchen that afternoon preparing food for tomorrow. Edward had told her, several times, that he could do this after she went to sleep, but she'd smiled, shaken her head and then continued with her work. Her nervous energy was evident, and he knew it was better that she was occupied, rather than worrying, but he wished he could simply allay those worries.

"I will," Bella said. She put the container in the fridge and then closed the door, leaving her hand flat against the door for a moment. Her fingers walked her hand up to the picture held in place by a magnet, and she traced her index finger over the faces of each of her children and then Edward's. In the image, she and the rest of them were smiling. Carlisle had taken the photo as they all sat in the garden, the day after Edward had officially proposed.

"Everything will be alright," Edward said, walking to her side. He tugged at her free hand, urging her to come sit with him.

Their chances of success tomorrow were high, he told himself. Very high.

And the chance of failure was small.

They sat together, Bella on his lap, her side curled against his chest. Her breathing was tight, the kind that preceded tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping at her face. "I'm trying not to worry. I know that the odds are very good, but I'm scared, Edward. I'm terrified that something is going to happen to you."

His own chest tightened. Of course she was. Weren't they all? There were no guarantees. Every one of the Cullens had some small drop of fear that tinged their thoughts. He was grateful for it. The small statistical possibility of failure banished any complacency that might weaken them.

Despite his own fears, he smiled, amused that she was worried about her doubt damaging his ego. "My pride is undeterred by your very natural fears. You should be worried about an army of vampires. Just like you should have run screaming from me the first day you met me, but it's good to see some of your protective instincts are in place."

She laughed and wiped her hand across her eyes. "Yes, my instincts. Good to know they're doing their job."

The family members had spoken at length about what they anticipated happening and about their plans; they had also spent most of the day training with the wolves. They were all as prepared as they could be.

Carlisle cleared his throat from the door.

Bella glanced at him. Edward could hear her bodily rhythms shift in unpleasant anticipation.

"Are you ready?" Carlisle asked.

"Of course," Bella said. She stood, her hand tight over Edward's.

While Carlisle hadn't intended to ask, he had considered how strong a lure Bella's blood had been to Edward, wondering if it would be the same for some of the newborns they anticipated meeting tomorrow. It was clear Victoria had trained them to recognize all of their scents, after all. Knowing how it physically distressed Bella to see or smell her own blood, he'd quickly dismissed the idea of asking her to allow him to draw some as bait. It was Edward, surprising even himself, who had seen how useful Carlisle's plan could be. He didn't doubt that they would be looking for her scent above all others, and if it prevented them from following milder versions of it, then . . .

Carlisle eyed their linked hands. _Will you stay?_ He asked Edward.

Edward's nod was tiny, visible only to his father.

"Everyone else has just stepped outside for a moment," Carlisle explained. "There won't be much of an aroma, but it seemed a prudent measure."

Bella nodded, her eyes travelling over the small tray of implements on Carlisle's desk. Beside it was a kidney-shaped basin. Edward didn't have to be able to hear her thoughts to know what she was thinking.

"Hi," he said, gathering her attention. He smiled. As expected, her heart-rate sped and her pupils dilated. He still marvelled at the way she reacted to him. He trailed a finger down her cheek as Carlisle wiped the crook of her arm with alcohol. "You're going to be fine," he told her. "You're not going to be ill because you don't want to be. Besides, I'm here," he whispered, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. She giggled. Carlisle had the syringe ready, and Edward wrapped his arms around Bella, humming softly, moving two fingers up and down her spine so that she would shiver with the pleasurable sensation. She did.

Carlisle was fast. He'd pinched the skin lightly, pressing his thumb in place before depressing the syringe so that she didn't feel the sting. It worked.

Edward kept moving his fingers. "I think," he mused, "we should have sundaes tomorrow after dinner. Josh and Meredith would like that."

"Mm," Bella mumbled. She was breathing shallowly into his chest.

But she wasn't being ill. The plunger was almost full.

"Maybe Emmett would like to supervise the little people while you and I go for a walk alone." He whispered the next words even more quietly. "With a nice plush blanket." Her cheeks flushed hot against his chest.

"All done," Carlisle announced. The vial was nowhere in sight, and a tidy bandage sat on Bella's arm.

Bella pulled away from Edward slowly, either to give herself time to compose her features, or to make certain she wasn't ill. "Thank you," she said to Carlisle.

"Oh, I think the thanks are ours to give. Your contribution will help."

Carlisle finished his words with the briefest of nods, and then vanished—or probably appeared to vanish to Bella.

"Take me to bed?" She asked, sliding her hands back around Edward's back.

He chuckled. "Gladly."

How beautiful it was to watch her blush again, the pinking of her cheeks making his throat tingle. It made other parts of him tingle, as well.

They walked slowly upstairs, hand in hand, turning out the lights as they went. By the time they reached their bedroom, thoughts of sleep were far gone, their fingers and hands and limbs tangled up in ways sweet, slow and gentle.

Sometime later, Edward listened to Bella fall asleep, trying to hold on to the feeling their lovemaking left him with. The euphoria it brought was fleeting, but the peace he felt after was also unbearably brief, replaced with the necessary and steely determination that would see him—all of them—through tomorrow.

Or so he hoped.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	46. Ashes, Ashes, They All Fall Down

A/N for 2020-01-31: This chapter is rather long. I won't apologize for that, but "the chapter that never seems to end" was a real contender for the title (credit goes to my beta for the actual title!). I hope you consider it worth the wait. On a related note, though, my beta and I have noticed that many reviewers tend to comment on things that happen in the latter parts of chapters. Feel free to comment widely. Reader reaction fascinates us both!

Finally: I struggle to adequately quantify or describe what my beta does, but suffice it to say, without her, this story would be miles away from where it is. Thank you, Eeyorefan12.

Erin

* * *

Sam had given Edward permission to drive Bella to Billy's the morning of the expected battle, telling him he'd be getting the younger wolves there early and making sure they understood what they were to do. The less-than-subtle subtext was that Sam would also make sure Edward left the Quileute lands, too. While other wolves had shadowed Edward and his human family's arrival on the reservation, they had done so out of sight.

Pulling another bag out of the car, Edward deposited this on the porch of Billy's house, loathe to rush through these last, normal steps before the day took on a shape he could only hope for. He pretended to search for something in the bag, listening to the sounds in the house, listening for the sound of Bella. She had been uneasy about spending the day with Billy, though she had hidden it well enough. In the past, she had blamed herself for Jacob's death, and Billy hadn't done much to persuade her otherwise afterwards. Still, Edward knew Billy felt more pity than anger for Bella, most of his ill-will saved for the Cullens and all others of their kind.

Edward didn't blame him; the man had cause. If the Cullens hadn't returned to Forks, Jacob never would have become a wolf, and would likely have gone on to live a full and normal life.

There was no changing the past, though, and if all went as planned today, Edward would be contributing to a far more peaceful future than the Quileutes had known for several years.

Charlie's mind, when they arrived, was understandably subdued, given the grief he still endured, but he was well-versed in the art of compartmentalizing his feelings. Edward watched him show interest in Josh and Meredith's excitement about their fishing trip with him and their 'Uncle' Billy. Despite his role as host, Billy Black had yet to emerge from the house, and Edward could hear in the man's thoughts the hope that Edward would leave soon. With all the energy it took for Charlie to focus on Meredith and Josh, he didn't seem to notice that his future son-in-law and closest friend had not yet interacted.

Out of habit, Edward continued to take the temperature of all the minds around him, trying not to take offense at the inappropriate thoughts one of Sam's newest pack-mates was having about Bella and what his adolescent mind considered the positive physical manifestations of her pregnancy. Inside the house, Billy had casually introduced Victor and Tony to Charlie and then to Bella as 'relations'. Charlie hadn't batted an eye at the vague consanguinity, apparently accustomed to Billy's expansive definition of family.

For all that he hated to be parted from Bella and the children, Edward needed to leave soon. He worried that he would either lose his resolve to make his farewells without any sign of anxiety, or be tempted to teach the young werewolf Tony about what was, and what was not appropriate to think about the woman whose life you were guarding.

Billy had set the two hulking youths to work splitting and stacking wood by the far side of the house. They were fifteen and fourteen, respectively, but had the physiques of grown men. Only the puppy fat in their cheeks marked them as adolescents. Josh, who had immediately been fascinated by these older boys, now stood watching them intently from the corner of Billy's porch. Edward had pointed to the axe they were wielding and quietly explained how dangerous it was. The boys had wrinkled their noses in Edward's direction, otherwise pretending to be absorbed by their work. Edward had asked Josh to stay on the narrow porch until another adult could accompany him any closer and the little boy had nodded solemnly. He had tested Edward on such fronts before, but his small mind was perceptive. He knew today was different somehow, and he was determined to please Edward with this small obedience.

Victor glanced up as Edward made another trip from the car to the house, depositing a small bag of toys for Josh by the steps. The young werewolf's thoughts ran to play, and then to what he imagined the coming battle would be like—picturing the play-fights he and his pack-mates often engaged in. Then he considered the more serious, if necessarily hasty training Jasper had led them in. There was envy for Victor's older friends, who he imagined were off to have a good time.

Edward's gut twisted, thinking of the fate his family's arrival had thrust upon these boys, for they truly were children yet if this is what they thought a battle was. His shift in feeling didn't make him feel any less like his future wife was somehow a poker chip in the bargain they'd made with Sam, but he did appreciate more deeply Sam's desire to protect these youngest pack members, if only from their own youthful misapprehensions.

The other boy, Tony, was focused on the wood still needing splitting, his thoughts scattered between the work at hand, and his grisly speculations about what he and Victor might have to do, should their older counterparts fail. He recalled the maneuvers they'd been taught, trying to catalogue it all in his mind, labelling each of the steps they'd broken down as a pack. He was obviously overwhelmed by the thought of having to defend so many people. The faces of the children and Bella and Billy and Charlie flew in his thoughts. His aim with the axe went wide and Edward knew its trajectory would bring the sharp and heavy head into the boy's leg. He didn't think before he found himself beside Tony, his sure hand gripping the axe handle just beside the boy's.

"Shit!" Tony cried, jumping back from Edward's touch. His tall form shuddered, but didn't shift. Behind him, Victor paused, arms full of freshly-cut wood, a steady tremble in his body making the pieces rattle.

Left holding the axe, Edward tapped it into the stump and stepped back. The last thing he needed was to have one of these boys shift.

He spoke softly and quietly so only they could hear. "If it comes to a fight in defending them, it won't be that part of your mind that serves you. Trust your instincts. You are the heirs of Ephraim Black, and you are ready to do what you've been called to do." They were young enough that such words could make or break them. And he needed to make them the men they were not yet.

Each nodded solemnly if a little shakily. They might not trust him not to kill them, but they believed his eloquent flattery.

Tony's cheeks reddened. The pack had been told that Edward could read minds, but he hadn't quite believed it. Now he was uncomfortably aware of the fact that Edward must have heard his earlier thoughts.

"Such things may be forgivable," Edward said quietly, but with enough of an edge to be a warning.

"Thanks for helping Billy out," Sam Uley's voice called to the boys. He was striding towards the house from the treeline. His house was on the other side of the woods, not a short ways, but enough that a human wouldn't think much of his appearance.

"Hi Sam," Charlie called from the porch.

Edward nodded at Sam before turning back to the house. Bella had emerged and was walking towards him. Her face was noticeably pink and damp, the evidence of recent tears hastily washed away.

"It's getting late," she said breathily.

Alice hadn't seen exactly when Victoria's army would attack, but the sun was several hours higher in her visions. Still, they weren't taking any chances with missing an opportunity to corral the newborns into a space away from the town.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. His hand had snatched at hers, holding it too tightly. But there would be no desperate goodbye here. He'd promised himself that. He wouldn't leave her with the taste of the fear that sat on his tongue.

"So, sundae's later, hey?" Bella said, picking a piece of lint off of his shirt. She released the spec, and the wind caught it. They watched it sail away on the breeze that tugged at her loose hair. The same air wound her scent around him, and he inhaled and exhaled carefully.

"Sundaes," he promised.

Her gaze found his and she nodded. "Good. I'm holding you to it." Then she pulled her hand away and turned to walk less confidently back to the porch, calling out to Charlie, "We should get going, if we're going to get a good spot by the river." Her voice quavered in a way that few others would notice. But he did.

"Yep, sure," Charlie said. He waved at Edward. "See you later, Edward. You too, Sam."

Charlie thought Sam was catching a ride into town with Edward, who would be busy packing up the house in preparation for the move back to Vancouver.

After the briefest of waves to Charlie, Edward turned and walked towards his car before his resolve could break. He wanted to snatch up the woman and children he loved and run.

Rounding the corner to where the car was parked, he gritted out a, "Let's go," to Sam, who was waiting for him, leaning on the hood.

"No problem," Sam muttered.

But before they moved to their respective doors, Edward turned to face Sam, close enough to easily reach him, but keeping his hands to himself. "I want to be very clear: I expect to find Bella and her children in the same or better condition than they are at this moment."

Sam scowled at Edward, his thoughts bitter. _We're all leaving people behind that we love. And not all of them are so well-guarded._

"Or kept hostage," Edward countered. He didn't expound upon what would happen if he found Bella and the children had been mistreated or stressed in any way. What Sam was imagining would suffice.

Edward's words prompted Sam to leave final, and softly mumbled instructions to his youngest packmates, "Remember what I told you."

The boys' thoughts indicated that Sam had warned them adequately.

Edward slipped into the car, waiting until Sam had buckled himself in before turning the ignition over roughly, shoving the car into gear and beginning the drive back towards the house. He would park there and continue on foot. If all went according to plan, Charlie would drive Bella and the children to his house by the end of the afternoon. Victor and Tony had been told to incapacitate Charlie's car if they or Bella didn't receive the all-clear by then. Not that Bella and the children would necessarily be safer on the reservation, but they would at least be further away from any vampires that might have escaped the Cullens.

At the Cullens' house, Sam disappeared into the trees to deal with tying his shorts to his leg before reappearing in wolf form a moment later.

_Don't flatter yourself that I enjoy your company, but I'm sticking with you until this is done._

"As it suits you," Edward said. "Just don't get in my way. I wouldn't want you to get hurt." He let Sam determine the sincerity of his words as he turned and ran, allowing himself only a moment of smugness as Sam struggled to keep up. They all needed to put pettiness aside for now and focus on their common enemy.

Assembled in two groups, one on the east, and one on the west, the other Cullens and the wolves waited. Edward's and Sam's arrival was their cue to split further and spread out. Armed with Bella's blood, Carlisle went first, leaving a trail of droplets from the north and the east, the likeliest directions from which the newborns would arrive.

Edward paired with Alice, moving both of them as far away from the wolves as possible so that she had a chance to use her gift. They were almost to Port Angeles when Alice began to catch future flickers of red-eyed bodies hurtling through the woods.

"I see," Edward whispered, texting the other Cullens, who were each within ear-shot of wolves. "Where do we tighten up?" He knew it was far-fetched for Alice to pinpoint something in this terrain, but there was a chance.

She shook her head, frowning. _Nothing yet._

Minutes later, the buzzing of Carlisle's text seemed to ricochet off the trees around them. He'd shared his coordinates. Alice and Edward bolted in the direction given.

The trees were nothing but blurs as they ran, Edward's gut roiling with an explosion of fear and whatever the equivalent of vampire adrenaline was. He heard the wild thoughts before he saw their backs ahead of him, the wind carrying the oblivious newborns' scents towards him and Alice.

His fear receded when he caught sight in the distance of a thick mane of flaming red hair, curls fluttering in the wind as it ran towards the trap they had set: Victoria.

_You are as good as dead_, his thoughts promised her. The feeling was something like giddiness, as the anticipation gave way to action at long last.

The loop made by the wolves and Cullens tightened around the army with stunning precision. Edward was glad that the number they had estimated appeared correct—there couldn't be more than twenty or so. Made frantic by the smell of Bella's blood, the newborns hadn't yet realized they'd been herded into a trap. Several were foolish enough to think they had surprised their prey.

Before Edward could even reach the field, he watched Jasper dispatch one of the vampires, twisting off the man's head as he levied a kick towards another attacker. While the Cullens alone might be outnumbered, they had the advantage of expertise, and this was never so evident as with Jasper's efficient maneuvers. Once the wolves had joined the fray, it was clear their side would have the upper hand.

Hearing his assailant's thoughts before he saw him, Edward tackled the man that sprang from the treeline, bringing his teeth into his neck before they both hit the ground, severing the head neatly. He only glanced at the unfamiliar face before igniting a lighter and dropping it on the body.

Ahead, one of the wolves—Seth—had been tackled to the ground by a snarling blond vampire. His arms encircled Seth's midsection, and the wolf's voice was panicked and shrill with pain.

Edward leapt forward, jamming his shoulder into the blond's back. It was enough to loosen the vampire's grip, which let Edward yank back his arms and tear them from his body. Abruptly released, Seth fell to his side with a yowl, struggling to get his hindlegs under him, his forelegs limp and useless, as Edward finished dispatching his opponent.

Dropping another flaming lighter onto the remains of the second newborn, Edward quickly surveyed the field. Everyone was occupied with someone, the Cullens all capably so. He could see Sam dancing backwards and forwards with Victoria—and here his heart dropped, catching Sam's view. Not Victoria, but a look-alike. A decoy. Spreading his awareness around the field, Edward searched rapidly through all the eyes he could find. Emmett was handily engaged with two fighters at once, Esme and Carlisle were teamed up with another, Jasper and Alice were whirlwinds of activity, and Rose and two of the wolves had encircled another newborn . . . No Victoria. The bottom of his stomach seemed to fall out of him. The Cullens had thought they had set a trap themselves, but if Victoria wasn't here—

Edward's panic didn't have time to explode from its kernel-like state, because the owner of the next set of assailing thoughts was suddenly on him, pushing him to the ground, an anonymous pair of arms tightening around him like a vice. He and his attacker were face to face, all snapping teeth and hissing. He wrenched one arm free and suddenly recognized the man in front of him.

"Grant!" Edward gripped his face tightly in his hands, keeping the newborn's teeth away from his own neck with difficulty.

Grant hissed back at him, his red eyes narrowed with fury and bloodlust.

Hearing his intention to bite, Edward twisted to the side, using his body's momentum to reverse their positions. It jarred Grant's hold, which Edward quickly dislodged. He dropped to a crouch facing him, his eyes never leaving Grant's.

"I could have killed you, and I didn't. Think about that." Edward dodged Grant's next lunge, taking hold of the man's arms and twisting them behind his back, throwing him down and pinning him to the ground.

"You're a murderer!" Grant yelled at him.

"Absolutely, but not the kind you think," Edward said. Grant's strength was superior, but Edward's gift allowed him to anticipate his captive's movements. He pushed his knee into Grant's back, his weight securing part of his hold, the proximity of his teeth to Grant's neck doing the rest.

"I know what you do, and it's disgusting!" Grant was so full of his rage, he could barely form a coherent thought.

"I didn't kill you when I could have. I could do it easily right now, but you're still alive. Think about that."

Grant only growled in reply.

"I know you, Grant Wilson, and not because of the lies you've been told. You know me too—you saw me with Bella once at the school. Try to remember."

He pushed Grant further into the ground as Leah leapt over them both, coming to her brother's defense when another vampire charged at a still-incapacitated Seth. Edward watched her snap at and capture the attacker's neck, a screeching crack marking the severing of the head from its body.

Still guarding her brother, Leah turned to face Edward and made a low, bone-rattling growl in his and Grant's direction, incredulous that he hadn't yet killed him.

"He's Bella's friend," Edward explained quickly. "Or at least he was. I don't want to kill him unless we have to."

"Bella?" Grant asked.

"Yes, Bella. My mate."

"You turned her? She had kids—she was pregnant!" Grant roared, renewing his struggles.

"She is still pregnant and well, as are her children, being kept safely away from here, at least when I left her. Where is Victoria?"

Grant said nothing, but his thoughts revealed much: She'd told them she would scout out meals for them and then meet them near Port Angeles before they headed north.

As much as Edward wanted to believe what Grant obviously did, how could he trust anything Victoria said? She knew about his ability to read minds. Would she have told her newborns this to mislead him? Her absence vexed him almost beyond reason.

"Victoria's not here." Jasper announced to everyone from across the clearing. He directed his next thought just to Edward. _Bella and the children? Has she gone after them?_

With Jasper's verbal confirmation of her absence, Edward heard the same question echoed in the minds of his family. "Probably. . . yes," Edward responded, trying to control his panic and keep his mind on the task at hand. He scanned the field again, counting the quickly-diminishing enemy, the smoking piles and his family members. Seth was the only major casualty so far that he was aware of. "Alice, get as close to Bella as you can!" he said, still keeping hold of Grant.

_We'll both go_, Jasper thought to him.

Edward turned to Leah. "You understand how Alice works."

Leah's mind, and those of the pack members, answered in the affirmative.

"She needs to get close enough to do what Victor and Tony were doing." He narrowed his eyes at her to convey his thoughts, hoping fiercely that she understood without giving plans to Grant or any other enemy listening.

Leah did. She used her mind-link to communicate to the rest of the wolves. _Sam, the boys need to back off when the little spitfire gets close. And she and her creepy husband need to go on the reservation, too. _

If Edward weren't ready to explode with anxiety, he would have chanced a look at Alice to gauge her response to Leah's descriptions of them.

Sam's silent assent and instruction to his pack were synonymous.

"Go!" Edward urged his siblings.

Alice and Jasper were already whispers in the woods.

Edward's knee pressed further into Grant's back. It might have been unjustified, but they were still technically in the midst of battle, although the action was dwindling, and Grant hadn't yet surrendered to him. And until he did, Edward couldn't let him go or be free to get to his mate. His frustration was at the boiling point.

"You can be assured of Bella's well-being so long as she is far from Victoria. Not that you cared much for her when you were lusting after her blood." he hissed at the newborn beneath him.

"What does Victoria have to do with Bella?" Grant spat out dirt with his words. Edward maintained steely pressure on the man's back, teeth only a decision away from his neck.

"Her mate tried to kill Bella, so I destroyed him. Victoria wants revenge."

Grant's physical resistance had lessened, and Edward wondered if he was making some headway. The newborn's thoughts were fractured, jumping this way and that so quickly that it was hard to tell where he was focusing or what he believed.

His words, though, were logical ones. "I don't remember you. You could know about Bella because you've hunted her," Grant said. "It would explain her blood."

While Edward could see Grant was straining for the memory, it was unlikely he'd held onto it in his newborn state. Grant remembered Bella, but he would have only seen Edward for seconds, probably not long enough to retain the memory in his human mind, let alone his immortal one. His argument would need to be logical. "We knew your attack was coming and we prepared. We wanted Victoria's army off-kilter. Human blood is too hard for you to resist and Bella helped us to protect her children," Edward explained.

"How did you know our attack was coming?"

"Not relevant," Edward snarled, ready to be done with this

"She could be dead," Grant said. His thoughts became morose. He was beginning to remember Bella in a way that Edward did not appreciate, but could understand.

"She isn't dead. She's well. And if you agree to stand down, I can let you live and see proof of it."

His eyes and mind had not left off roaming the field as he tried to reason with Grant. They were down to four attackers, not including Grant, all of them more skilled fighters than the ones who'd earlier been dispatched but clearly about to be defeated. It was impossible to feel triumphant, or even relieved, with Victoria unaccounted for.

With a pang, Grant caught sight of Carlisle making what Edward knew could be a fatal tackle on the Victoria look-alike.

"Mary!" Grant croaked. His entire body winced, and a choked sob escaped him.

Edward lessened his pressure so that Grant could raise his head. "Grant, if there are any others you can convince to stop, now is the time. We don't want to kill anyone unless we have to."

"Addison!" Grant called. "Something's wrong. I don't think she was right. He didn't kill me, so just stop and listen for a bit. Addison!"

There was a brief flicker of attention from one of the minds on the field, but it was only a flicker. The two wolves the newborn faced terrified it too far beyond reason. "This doesn't look like peacemaking to me!" Then he turned and tried to run. Edward grimaced. A third wolf tackled Addison mid-air, ripping his head from his body, cutting off his loud shriek.

Grant did not call out to any others, and Edward heard his fear and grief blossom. The young vampire was certain he was dead next, just being saved for torture later on. It was the only reason he could fathom having survived so far amidst the carnage strewn about him.

It was Carlisle who delivered the final, fatal blow in the battle. He'd offered quarter for the young woman if she would stand down, but she wouldn't listen to reason, shrieking and screaming at him for the murder his coven had supposedly committed in taking her sister. When she launched herself at Esme, Carlisle moved like a snake, his lips at the woman's neck one moment, her head bouncing onto the grass the next.

Seth remained prone, his breathing shallow and pained. Leah lay beside him. He'd stopped whimpering, but the distress Edward could hear from him was profound.

"Carlisle, Seth needs help." Edward nodded towards the wolf a few yards from him.

"Esme, get my bag?" Carlisle called back.

She nodded, dashing off and back with a bright red backpack. Ever the physician, Carlisle had come prepared to tend to the aid of the wolves, or any others that might need his assistance.

Edward could hear Grant's confusion. He wasn't sure how much time he had left, but in the interim he was wondering why a vampire had a medical kit, and why he was going to use it on . . . a very large dog?

"Can you shift?" Carlisle asked Seth quietly.

Seth answered with a low whine, and then a much louder cry as his human form appeared.

Grant gasped.

Edward kept his grip in place.

_I could use some help, Edward,_ Carlisle thought urgently, throwing an emergency blanket over Seth and moving his hands lightly over what looked like very wrongly-healed ribs. Leah disappeared briefly, hastily dressing and returning in human form to kneel by her brother.

"Emmett," Edward called to his brother who was tossing a lighter onto a headless body nearby. "This is Grant. He was Bella's friend, before."

Emmett nodded, coming close. He was utterly devoid of his usual sense of humour but clearly still feeling the heat of battle. He planted himself at Edward's side, arms folded across his chest, and Rose came to join him.

Very slowly, Edward released his grip on Grant, standing and moving towards Seth and Carlisle. He positioned himself on the side opposite Carlisle, still keeping an eye on Grant in case he tried to bolt. Joining his father in assessing Seth's injuries—or malformities, as the case was—Edward nodded his agreement with Carlisie's initial evaluation. Seth's bones had begun healing, but not the way they were supposed to.

"Very soon, Bella will be my sister-in-law," Emmett was telling Grant, whom he, Rose and Esme had circled. "I would very much like to be able to tell her that you're still here. Don't make me have to disappoint her." There was no room to misconstrue the tone of Emmett's voice , and Edward heard Grant's silent, logical response. He knew he was without any chance of escape, and was trying to make peace with what he imagined would be a very gruesome end.

Edward dropped to his knees beside Seth, as Carlisle began strategizing aloud how best to treat him. Sam had just completed a search of the field for any missed attackers, and was now sitting in his human form beside Leah, both of them perplexed by the unintelligible medical jargon Edward and Carlisle were employing. Leah's hand brushed over her brother's hair, while Sam let Seth squeeze his hand.

Finally, Carlisle leaned back and looked at his son regretfully. _The bones need to be rebroken. Would you explain? _

Edward swept his attention around the rest of the wolves. In the younger wolves' minds there was that tang of giddiness, of the euphoria that they had all made it. The older pack members were more cautiously optimistic. Some were worried for Seth, and others for what other surprises might come but that wariness would take time to stand down. It was best to warn everyone about what needed to be done.

"Seth," Edward said softly as Carlisle began an IV, "Carlisle's giving you morphine. Your bones aren't aligned , and we need to rebreak a few of them before they heal fully."

"What?" Sam spat.

"Oh fuck," Seth muttered. He looked up at Edward and they held each others' gaze for a moment. Seth seemed to find the sincerity he was looking for because he closed his eyes then and Edward could hear his silent acquiescence.

"Whatever you're gonna do, just make sure it looks like weekend warrior crap gone wrong," Seth muttered, clearly concerned about what he would tell his wife about his injuries.

"We got you covered," Sam said, patting Seth's shoulder. Edward was pleased that Sam had decided not to argue but to trust Carlisle's medical expertise. It seemed a minor victory at least.

Edward and Carlisle worked as efficiently as possible, grateful that Leah and Sam were there to help, both physically and to provide encouragement to Seth. The rest of the wolves had moved to the other side of the field at Sam's orders, since the temptation to attack anyone who appeared to harm a packmate might be too much for them.

Esme and Rosalie, for their part, were filled with compassion for the young vampire who had been drawn into this through no fault of his own, while Emmett distracted himself by reliving parts of the battle. Edward was too busy with his work to watch Grant, but he could hear the shock in the newborn's mind. Bella's former colleague had no frame of reference for what he was seeing, and it was unnerving, all the misleading things he'd been told about being a vampire.

_I've got Seth_, Carlisle thought to Edward, once they were nearly done. _Find out what you can._

But Edward didn't need to, the buzz of his phone silenced with his answering it. "Everything's good here," Alice said. "I see sundaes in your future tonight. But Victoria's running, Edward! I saw it as soon as we had some distance." There was excitement in her voice. "Jaz and I should go after her."

Edward waved his hand at his side, as if it could make her and Jasper move faster. "Go. Call us as soon as you're able."

His family's eyes looked bright when he hung up the phone. They had all heard.

Only Carlisle seemed unaffected, his mind almost wholly focused on treating Seth. He only paused to say, "I think _you_ have a phone call to make."

In all Edward's distraction, he'd forgotten his promise to call Bella as soon as possible. "Of course." He put his phone on speaker before he pressed on Bella's image, eyeing Grant meaningfully. The man was sufficiently intimidated by the other vampires and wolves present. He wouldn't speak out of turn.

Bella's, "Hello?" sounded like a gulp of air.

"How's fishing?" he asked.

"It's fine. How's the packing?" Her exhale was loud, even over the phone.

"Good. Nineteen boxes packed of twenty."

"Nineteen," she repeated. "As in you lost one?"

"I saved one. In fact, I ran into an old friend of yours. Would you mind saying hello to Grant?"

"Grant? . . . Grant _Wilson_?" The tone of her voice communicated incredulity and question.

"You're on speaker phone." He held it in Grant's direction while the new vampire stared at it in bewilderment.

"Bella?"

"Grant!" she said. "I did not expect to hear from you." She sounded like she was about to cry. "Are you . . . alright?"

"I am . . . well," he said. "I am confused." He looked around the assembled wolves and vampires. "Where are you?" Grant blurted out.

Edward's eyes narrowed, listening carefully. There was no subterfuge in the man's thoughts, though. It was simply a customary inquisition.

Grant seemed to understand his faux-pas, and looked down, suddenly fearful again.

"I'm just out fishing with my dad and the kids," Bella said, adding much more quietly. "Don't be afraid, okay? Please, listen to them and do what they tell you."

Grant's eyes flicked between Emmett's and Edward's faces before he gave a silent nod. Bella's words had helped; Edward could hear his thoughts of surrender.

"Edward?" Bella said.

He pulled the phone back, "Yes, I'm here."

"You're okay?"

"We're all well. Carlisle is keeping busy with a special case, but everyone is fine."

"And. . . Grant? What will you . . . what will happen to him?" Edward could hear the concern in her voice but he couldn't blame her. The man she had known for a time had been kind to her but now he belonged to Victoria—had fought for her. Bella was right to be concerned for him.

Before he could begin a response, there was an eruption of sound from Bella's end of the line, an assortment of squeaks and whoops in which the words, "fish," and "Josh," were sprinkled.

And all Edward wanted in that moment was to be there, taking in the excitement of a boy and his first fish, if he'd heard correctly. He wanted to help his . . . son, yes, son . . . catch a fish. But he stood in a clearing that reeked of wolf and rancid smoke, watching a young man shiver in pain as his body burned off the morphine Carlisle kept injecting it with.

"We'll do what we can," Edward finally said, hoping they would be able to do right by the man.

"I love you." Bella told him. "Please, if you can . . . make sure that Grant has directions. It would be good if he had a place to stay." Her coded message was a clear request for leniency for her former friend. Charlie's voice rang in the background, praising Josh for his first catch, telling him to put the rod down so they could unhook the fish.

A place to stay. What in the world were they to do with Grant? They certainly couldn't let him run loose. And they couldn't bring him home, though Esme was looking at him with pity. He was a victim of Victoria's vices, and a teacher to boot, a slam-dunk for her sympathy. But a newborn in the house with Bella's-and his-children? No, that was not an option.

With a final promise to see Bella as soon as possible, Edward hung up, pondering what they would do with Grant, how to best assist Carlisle with Seth, and wondering above it all, if Alice and Jasper had caught up with Victoria.

If Grant hadn't been convinced of the trust that existed between the wolves and the Cullens before Carlisle had begun treating Seth, he was learning it now. Edward couldn't say that he was gifted, per se, but he was clearly someone who had been remarkably empathetic in his human life, because his mind had flinched at every pain Seth endured, being treated on the field.

Though it shouldn't have surprised him, it did when Rose offered a solution for where to put Grant.

"I think it's time we visited our cousins," she said. "And bring them a lost sheep."

While Grant was offended by the comparison, he said nothing.

Emmett laughed, but his expression sobered when he turned back to the vampire he was guarding and noticed the wary look on his face. "Do you have any doubt that I could kill you?" he asked Grant.

Grant shook his head.

"Good. If you want to live, you'll go where we tell you."

Rose was still working out a plan, with her thoughts directed at Edward. _He's shown so much empathy. I think he could adapt, Edward. And if there's a chance of a connection between him and one of the Denali's . . ._

It was a far-fetched hope, but the Denali's tenderness towards human men might extend to a newborn who had been horribly abused. Maybe.

_Give him the choice,_ Carlisle said. He hadn't heard the rest of Rose's words but he was thinking along the same lines. _I don't think his compliance is in question. _

For her part, Esme was quietly studying Grant as she considered Rose's suggestion. Her relief at the possibility of a kind solution was palpable. When she finally looked over and caught Edward's eye, she gave him a hint of a smile, knowing he had already registered her vote on the matter. She nodded in encouragement.

"We have cousins like us further North," Edward said to Grant. "And like us, they live on the blood of animals, not on tortured humans." He wanted to roll his eyes at Victoria's ridiculous notions, but given how convinced her warring coven had been, he didn't. Better to let the man see for himself. "We think they might welcome you. If not . . . " he sighed. He wasn't sure what else they could do with him. "It will not be easy, but if you're willing—"

"I'm willing," Grant said. And he was. He was clearly trying to accept Edward's words at face value. The idea that he could live on something other than human blood was a relief to him. Truly an empathetic creature.

Edward nodded. "Emmett and Rose will take you."

"Let's go, then," Emmett said, grinning wickedly. He lifted his chin north-wards and punched Grant's arm. "Tag. You're it. Go!"

Looking slightly terrified, Grant took off at a moderate run, Emmett and Rose on either side.

Leaving Seth safe in hand with Carlisle and Leah, Edward joined Sam and two of the other wolves to do a final run through the area. His paranoia felt justified, part of him wishing he could find one more newborn to eradicate, just to erase the feeling that something was left unfinished. But there was nothing to find, all trails ending permanently in piles of ash on the field.

When they returned, it was to find Esme burying these ashes. Edward moved to help her, but she shooed him away with her silent injunction. _Go, see Bella. We can clean up here._

The need to go to his mate was an ache in his chest at this point, but he felt the obligation to check with Carlisle first, who was distracting Seth from his many, many pains by relaying some of his personal history. Much of it would intrigue anyone with the faintest interest in the past, but it had riveted Seth's academic attention and was helping distract him from his suffering.

"How's the weekend warrior?" Edward asked gently.

Seth grinned, a little loopy from the morphine. "Sweet."

"Thank you," Sam said, approaching again. He nodded to Carlisle and Edward.

Edward returned the nod. If Sam hadn't demanded Bella and the children's presence as near-hostages, there might be thanks, but good will, even for all their success, was thin on the ground. "We are grateful for your assistance. We wouldn't have survived this without your help. We'll make sure Seth is alright. If there's anything else . . ."

Sam's thoughts were clear. He didn't want pretty words or to need the help for Seth, he wanted the Cullens to leave the peninsula, and let his people be people, not wolves. He was about to say as much, but Edward spared him making his blunt request.

"We will," Edward said. He eyed Carlisle meaningfully. They would discuss it later, but it was only fair that the Quileutes be free of this immortal obligation.

Carlisle's expression was just as meaningful. Instead of commanding him as Esme had done, he only wondered why his son was still here when the woman he loved was waiting for him. Edward's response was to flash an abashed grin at his sire before turning to run toward the hearts that beat in place of his own.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	47. Kindergarten

A/N for 2020-02-09: I think this has to be my favourite chapter in the whole story, not because of where we are plot-wise, but for the interactions between Josh and Edward. Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan 12 for whipping my words into shape and keeping this story on track.

~ Erin

* * *

"I-cream," Josh said, putting a dripping spoonful of ice cream and chocolate sauce to Edward's lips. "Share."

"Mmm," Edward said, pretending to taste some and control his gag reflex at the same time

Josh nodded, turning back to the table and spooning more ice cream into his mouth.

Edward's and Bella's sundaes were yet untouched. Esme had pretended to serve everyone some, herself and Carlisle included. While she and Carlisle had done a good job imitating the requisite eating and appreciating, Edward and Bella had utterly failed at this appointed task. Edward had barely been able to let go of Bella since they'd been physically reunited. Right now, his arm was wound tightly around her, and her hands were quietly clenched into the loose fabric of his shirt.

"Don't you want yours?" Meredith asked Bella. She wiped daintily at her mouth with her napkin.

"Nope. I saved mine for you," Bella said, releasing Edward's shirt and nudging her bowl towards Meredith.

Beside Edward, Josh squeaked indignantly.

"Don't worry, I saved _mine_ for you," Edward said, pushing his over.

He watched the children finish their second servings more slowly.

"Weren't you two going out for a walk?" Carlisle asked as he stood in the corner of the kitchen. He was texting Sam about a question related to Seth's follow-up treatment. Apparently, Seth's wife was struggling with the story she'd been presented with and wanted to know why Seth didn't need a visit to a clinic. "With a blanket?" he added, not looking up from his phone. His expression hadn't changed but his innocent tone fooled no one.

Edward smelled Bella's blush before he saw it and chuckled. "Well?" he asked her.

"I'm up for a 'walk', so long as I don't have to walk anywhere," she whispered. "Honestly, I am exhausted, even though I have no reason to be."

"You have every reason to be," he murmured. He thought of all the strain the last days and weeks, even months. As if the pregnancy alone weren't enough to deal with.

"Grandpa says we're exhausting," Meredith piped up.

All the adults laughed softly at this, even Edward.

Bella still made no move whatsoever to stir from her cozy spot beside him, and Edward found himself staring again at his phone and the coded message Alice had sent him an hour before: _Curly-haired friend on way to visit old acquaintances. All possible routes are short and end in final destinations. Watching for now._

There was no question as to what Alice was reporting. Victoria would soon be dead, one way or the other. Her choice to seek help from a former coven seemed to be the clinching point. The outcome remained the same despite the means by which it occurred. Victoria was almost certainly gone.

"Still don't believe it?" Bella whispered.

"Not quite yet," he whispered back.

"No one with any sense bets against Alice," she said, taking a sip of water.

He put the phone down. While Alice would have been pleased at Bella's absolute faith in her, she would also have been the first to admit that her gift wasn't infallible. Being unable to use it around the wolves was just one example.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind going outside for a little while." Bella said.

The sun was close to setting, but there was enough shade on the east side of the house to allow them to safely sit and enjoy the last bit of daylight. While there were two chaise lounges to use, Bella chose to settle on his lap.

"You said she saw several visions of Victoria being destroyed?" Bella asked him.

"Yes," Edward said. He'd phoned Alice after receiving her message, earning him an exasperated sigh, and a, "There's not much point in a coded message if you're just going to phone me, Edward." But she'd talked him through his obsessive worry. Alice's voice had been light with hope. She'd seen the end of Victoria. He just wished she was close enough that he could see what she had. "We're on the right track. If I'm right—and we both know I'm nearly always right, Edward—Jaz and I are going to find a pile of smoking ash near a quiet beach in Suriname or in French Guiana."

"Yes," he said again to Bella.

She pressed her warm palms to his cheeks. "You get to stop worrying now."

He smiled. How easy she made it seem. When Alice brought him back a pile of ashes, he would let go of his worry then.

"And you're going to have to find something else to do with your time instead of worry."

His palm pressed to her cheek. "I have no desire to do anything but abandon my very well-established habit of worrying about Victoria, and worry instead about your and our children's welfare."

She giggled, but her smile stretched wide. Her forefinger traced an unpredictable pattern over his shirt. "I like the sound of that—'our children.'"

He did too.

He tightened his arms around her, nuzzling into her neck.

"Now we can have hope instead of worry," she said. "Or, at least, only worry about things that normal people do."

He laughed. "This supernatural being is very much ready for normal people worries."

"Well good," she said, pulling back. "So take me to bed and you can enjoy worrying like a normal person. Or not. Maybe just enjoy."

And so he did.

\- ooo 000 ooo -

The move from Forks was to be a permanent one, and so the packing at the Cullen house took on a far greater scope that had been initially planned for. Alice and Jasper had returned in time to help, though, the couple bearing a grisly gift for Edward and Bella.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me unless I brought this to you," Alice said to her brother.

Bella held the small glass vial in her hand, turning it over, eyeing the ash as it tumbled in the cylinder. Her lips were twisted with strong feeling.

When Edward held out his hand, Bella placed the object into it. He too turned it over, watching the ash move only under the influence of gravity.

"She's dead" Bella breathed out, her tone more query than statement.

"She's dead," Alice said decisively, nodding for emphasis.

If it weren't for his own ability to see what his sister did, Edward's doubt would be harder to overcome, but Alice's visions had been precise as she'd replayed them for him. Victoria had apparently sought out former allies who had not appreciated her making them party to a feud with the large and talented Olympic coven. Alice and Jasper had found the ashes, just as she'd seen, drifting on the beach in French Guiana. They had also found small pieces of vampire flesh littering the beach which Jasper had assured him carried Victoria's scent, but which he had chosen to destroy at the site.

Bella's lips were a thin line. "She's caused—she's done so much damage. It's just hard to believe she's gone."

"I know," Edward said, putting the vial down on the table, trading the vessel for Bella's hand. He took a breath and let it out slowly before adding, "But, she is, and we get to live our lives."

Jasper chuckled. "That would be so much more convincing if you actually believed it."

Edward shot him a dark look.

_It's true, brother_, Jasper said silently, shrugging. _And I know how much you wanted to do it yourself but take the win._

Edward nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to his mate

"It will take time," Edward told Bella, smoothing a hand over her hair, then letting it rest at the side of her abdomen. He was rewarded with a vigorous kick from the small occupant inside, and smiled.

She leaned into him, face pressed to his chest. But when she pulled back, she was sporting a mischievous grin. "Then let's say farewell. Do the honours?" she picked up the vial and put it in his hand, eyeing the forest beyond the river. "Bu-bye bitch!" she called, as Edward hurled it into the distance.

Alice clapped when she heard it smash. "And that is how you start your happily ever after," she said, nodding definitively.

And while Edward knew it might signal the end of one trial for himself and Bella, his heart was also heavy with guilt. In being so preoccupied with eradicating this one threat, they had not yet managed to find a way free for Jasper and Alice.

Jasper looked at him, a sad smile on his face as he felt Edward's concern. There may yet be a way, and if there is not, we will make peace with our fate.

The other minds around the house were freer with their joy. It was something to be celebrated, even with this other difficulty before them.

"We will find a way," Edward said to Jasper, firmly resolving to somehow keep all his family whole, safe from lives of fear or brutal obligation.

\- ooo 000 ooo -

Edward's gaze was on Josh, but his mind was following Bella in Meredith's thoughts.

In their years apart, her face had acquired more detailed terrain—small roads of emotion etched into lines that told him she'd laughed more than she'd frowned. He appreciated this geography. It lessened his still-present guilt, although it was always there lurking in the shadows. She'd worried too, this evidenced by the sometimes-dimple that perched above her nose. That anxious mark was active now, while the rest of her face was carefully animated as she talked with Meredith about what her first day of kindergarten would be like.

Bella couldn't be there for it, and while she'd claimed it was fine, Edward knew better.

Meredith knew too.

If Josh cared that Bella would be away, Edward would be aware of it. As a creature of simpler desires, Josh was uncomplicatedly happy to spend his day with Edward. His mother's absence would be a fleeting one in his world.

Edward let his eyes slide away from Josh and rest on the woman he loved. She often said her face was an open book for anyone who knew her, but he amended that statement: it was an open book for anyone who knew her well. She'd learned to school her feelings as they played out on her delicate features. A useful skill for a high-school teacher.

"I have to go," she sighed. "But I want to hear all about your day when you're home." She hugged Meredith, and then Josh, and then sort of sighed, leaning into Edward's arms. "And you too."

"Mmm," he answered. He didn't want her to leave either, but there was no way he was going to admit to that. She wanted to work, and work she would if it pleased her. When they'd returned to Vancouver, she'd tentatively suggested giving up her position, saying it would only be a few months before the baby arrived. Edward had surprised himself by opposing the idea, knowing how much she loved her work. That he wanted her to rest more was beside the point. The original teacher Bella had been covering for had returned part-time to work, leaving Bella with one full day of work every other day. She was well enough, especially with the removal of Victoria from their lives, and needed to make her own choices. They were finding their balance in decision-making, a give and take that took practise and time.

While Victoria was no longer a threat, Edward had admitted that he wasn't quite ready to let go of the patterns of protection that had become habit in their family. Rose and Emmett would stay nearby when Bella was at work, just as the other family members would take turns watching Meredith at school. He would have liked to have Alice and Jasper linger near Charlie but in honouring Sam's request, the Cullens had left the peninsula permanently, with the pack promising that they would keep an eye on Charlie as he continued to grieve for Sue. And while part of Edward envied Rose and Emmett their task, in particular, he was happy with his own, smaller charge at home.

"Don't forget—" Bella started, picking up her bag at the door.

"The immunization forms. I remember." He smirked at her as she reached for the door handle.

A few days before, Carlisle had been greatly amused by Edward's insistence on applying lidocaine cream before his father administered necessary vaccinations to both Meredith and Josh but he had signed the paperwork with a wide smile. "I never thought I'd immunize my own grandchildren." While they hadn't had as many opportunities to show it amidst the mortal stresses they faced, Carlisle and Esme were delighted by the notion of having grandchildren.

"Oh, and if you get a chance—"

"I will trade contact information with the other kindergarten parents."

Bella blushed. "Thank you. You're amazing."

"Yes, I am. Now, have fun. Don't work too hard," Edward said, waving at her, fighting the urge to go to the door and touch her, kiss her, delay her to the point of getting her fired.

Rose and Emmett's thoughts told Edward they were outside waiting. He caught a glimpse of their car as it pulled away from the curb, with Bella now inside.

"I'm going to go change," Meredith announced, attempting to sound more confident than her thoughts indicated.

"Oh?" Edward asked innocently, nudging Josh's bowl towards him as a reminder to eat.

"I want to wear the blue dress," Meredith said. An anxious worry lay beneath the words, and Edward pondered how best to coax it out of her verbally. She was currently wearing the practical t-shirt and shorts that Bella had helped her pick.

"It might be a bit warm in that," Edward mused.

"I'll be okay," Meredith said, hurrying away, looking a little nervously at Edward. She'd expected him to say no.

"Why don't we pack your shirt and shorts in case you change your mind?" He asked.

She stopped. "We can do that?"

"Of course."

"Oh," she said, shoulders relaxing. "I'll bring them back!"

It was getting close to time to leave by the time Meredith returned to the kitchen. Josh had finally been convinced to eat, though there had been no progress on the clothes-changing front.

"No! Jamas!" He pouted, folding his arms over his blue pajama shirt. With his strident breathing, the little black bat image on it seemed to flutter.

"Okay. It sounds like you want to wear your pajamas," Edward said. It wasn't a fight that needed having, and he chose to help Josh with his words, instead. "Is that right?"

Josh's ill-feelings vanished instantly with Edward's acknowledgement and he bounced away. His trust was a profound thing, and when given, given wholly. It was gratifying for Edward to know he had earned it yet again.

Meredith had reappeared in her dark blue dress. It was the sort of outfit he imagined Alice would have worn when she was Mer's age—almost a hundred years ago. The heavy navy cotton featured a prim collar and a gathered skirt whose lines were distorted by an unusual protuberance at the front and the back. Meredith eyed Edward, deciding, as many children did, that as an adult, he was completely unobservant. This was contrary to all her prior experience with him and the cognitive dissonance was jarring for him.

He eyed her casually, contemplating what approach to take.

"That's a very grown-up dress," he finally pronounced, clearing the dishes off the table.

Meredith didn't respond, sitting down awkwardly.

"Should we take a picture to send to your grandpa?"

"Okay!" Meredith said, still shifting uncomfortably.

Edward pulled out his phone. "Maybe by the door?"

As she moved towards it, Meredith's hand clutched at the back of the dress, holding something in place.

Deciding her behaviour had been unusual enough for the average human to notice, Edward lowered his phone, "Are you holding something under your dress, Mer?"

"No."

"It looks like you are." He kept his voice even and gentle.

Meredith's eyes tried to find a comfortable place to settle on Edward's face. Not finding one, they slid to the floor.

"That must be uncomfortable. Maybe you want to put it in your bag instead?" Edward asked.

Meredith still didn't say anything, turning her back to him, pulling up the hem of her dress, and then turning back around to face him. She had one of the hand towels squished between her fingers.

"It's okay to take a towel." Edward had sunk to a squat, so that they were at eye-level.

Meredith's hands twisted the fabric. "Okay," she said quietly.

Edward nudged a little closer, daring to reach out two fingers to hook one of hers. "Are you worried about something?"

The words and tears were synonymous. "What if I have an accident at school?"

Edward grasped her hand with his, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb. "Well, if that happens, the teacher is probably going to notice, and will help you get to the bathroom and change your clothes."

"But what if they don't?"

"Do you think you could tell them?"

"Yes," Mer hiccoughed. She flung her arms around Edward and sobbed even more.

He picked her up, carrying her back to the table. "Have you been worrying about this a lot?" He'd heard occasional flickers of it, but this was the first time it had slipped into the forefront of her mind, no doubt brought on by the excitement of the day.

"Yes," she sniffled.

"Do you want me to talk to the teacher about it when we get there?"

"Can you?" Mer asked, picking up a napkin to wipe her nose.

"Certainly," Edward said, thinking about the time, pretending to glance at the clock. They would be late if they didn't leave soon, though he hated to rush her this morning. "But perhaps we should get going soon?"

Mer nodded, and then leaned over and slumped herself onto Edward in a rag-doll hug. "Thank you, Edward."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling. This was a true first for him and Meredith. Her trust had been difficult to earn, but it was getting a little bit easier day-by-day. Bella both praised and encouraged his efforts, and as much as he wanted to say he didn't need the encouragement, he did. Earning Josh's trust had been hard work, but he understood Josh at a level he could only aspire to with Meredith.

While he didn't want to relinquish Meredith's rare embrace, he knew they were pressed for time, and that she would soon begin to feel his coldness. "Why don't you go get your shoes on, and I'll go get Josh ready to go."

Meredith wiped at her eyes once more, and then slipped away to do as he'd asked.

By the time Edward convinced Josh to leave, they were almost ten minutes late. "I think we should probably drive," Edward concluded.

"Mommy said we were going to walk," Meredith said worriedly. "We're not supposed to drive to school. We're supposed to walk. It's better for the environment." She looked accusingly at Edward's car—or what Bella still called Edward's car. His ostentatious car.

_Rose had rolled her eyes at the description. "An Audi, ostentatious," she'd snorted. "Does she even know about the Aston? Or the Lamborghini?" _

"Then do you want a piggyback ride?" Edward asked.

"Back!" Josh squealed excitedly. Mer's nod was equally energetic.

Carrying one of them would have been fine, but by the time he'd jogged to just a block shy of the school, Mer on his shoulders and Josh in his arms, he'd been spotted by another parent who was also late in arriving.

"Wow," the woman said, watching Edward hoist Meredith off his shoulders, setting her down on the ground. "That's a workout."

"It sure is," Edward said, pretending to be out of breath.

"I'm Carly, and this is my son Liam. You're . . . ?"

"Edward-and Josh and Meredith." He nodded in greeting, ignoring her extended hand, occupying his own with Josh's and Meredith's.

"It's nice to meet you, Edward." she said, not giving up.

"Man," Josh corrected, looking at Edward and back toward the woman, avoiding eye contact.

Carly had completely forgotten about her own child, her gaze stripping the clothes off of Edward. She hadn't even heard Josh.

"Pardon us, we're late," Edward lifted his chin in the direction of the school.

"Oh, yes. Kindergarten?" Carly asked, her mind still unwholesomely preoccupied.

"Yeah, today's my first day!" Mer announced.

"Mine too," the very small Liam announced. He had thick, dark plastic-rimmed glasses on. Then he looked at Josh. "I like your shirt."

"Batman," Josh said congenially.

"Yeah, he's cool."

"Man," Josh agreed as he eyed Edward, taking Liam's comment at face value and considering it a comment on Edward's body temperature.

Edward couldn't help but let a small grin brew on his face.

"Welcome kindergarten families!" A man called from the front of the school. He was tall and lean, his large spidery hands cupped to his face, augmenting the sound in a well-practised motion. "Please come on in!"

The disordered group of adults and children followed him inside, Edward, Mer and Josh among them.

Today would only be a half-day, with parents staying for the first half-hour, leaving, and then picking their children up before lunch.

While Edward had explained this plan to Joshua, the concept had not quite stuck. Faced with a room of brand-new toys, Josh was utterly engrossed, and while Edward watched Meredith play with the other children, he prepared himself to deal with a melt-down when departure time arrived.

The paperwork and conversations with the teacher taken care of, Edward stayed close to Josh, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He wasn't successful. Several parents had clustered near him—all of them women.

"Your children are beautiful. Do they get their red hair from you?" Carly asked. She'd used their synchronous arrival as a sort of claim on his attention, physically blocking other people from approaching or conversing with him. She was single, and she'd noted his bare left hand.

Mer, however, surprised him with her attentive—and dare he characterize it as so—protective response. "Edward's going to be my step-father."

"Oh," Carly said, an audibly disappointed droop in her tone.

"Is that like a stepmother?" Liam asked, squinting up at Mer.

"Kinda?" Mer said, unprepared for the question.

"Like evil and stuff?"

Mer frowned at him. "Edward's not evil." She glanced at him, thinking first of Cinderella's mean stepmother and her fondness for cats, then remembering how Bubbles hadn't liked Edward. She decided this was difference enough between them.

"But stepmothers are," Liam said. He stared at Edward, assessing his appearance.

"The wedding's in a few weeks," Edward explained to Carly, who was listening closely to the children's conversation, clearly seeking information.

Her disappointment did not diminish her imaginative capacity as she envisioned herself as Edward's bride. On their wedding night.

"Alright parents, time to say goodbye for a few hours. Make sure you remind your child how much fun they're going to have today!" the teacher called.

Grateful for a reason to move his attention away from Carly, Edward turned to Mer. "We'll come back for you in two hours, okay?"

"Okay," she said nervously, glancing around. Some children were crying.

Having catalogued the teacher's intentions, Edward plucked at a likely topic. "I'll bet you're going to get to draw—probably someone in your family. Who do you think you'd like to draw?"

"Alice," Mer said without hesitation.

"Good choice," he replied, already imagining Alice's delight.

As expected, Josh was mightily displeased with the idea of leaving. Edward pointed out the playground, visible from the classroom windows. "No one else is using the slide," he murmured in his ear.

Josh turned to bolt, and Edward let him go, knowing there was no risk of losing him. However, the teacher, only seeing a child running from the room, stepped to physically block the doorway, putting a hand out to stop Josh from leaving.

Josh's shriek was loud—ear-splitting. A few parents actually cringed, and Edward moved quickly to reach him.

"I've got him," he told the teacher, who nodded, obviously alarmed by Josh's reaction.

Picking up his small, straining body, Edward carried Josh into the hall, where the shrieking continued, and the flailing began.

The shrieks had become repeated, high-pitched, "NO'S!" His mind was locked into this refusal, circling and cycling in his rigid resistance. There would be no breaking the pattern until he wearied, and Edward hugged Josh to his chest, pretending to take long, slow breaths in an attempt to get him to regulate his own.

"It's okay," he murmured in his ear. "We'll come back later, and then we'll all go home together."

It was definitely not what Josh wanted to hear and now his rage at being restrained morphed into fury at not being able to go back into the classroom.

The screaming had begun to attract the attention of other adults in the building, a few teachers' heads popping out of doors from down the hall, then retracting when they saw Edward.

Slowly, Edward began walking down the corridor. Abrupt movements during tantrums only aggravated Josh.

A few other parents had gathered by the entrance to the building, and it was to this small crowd that Edward appeared, Josh's board-stiff screaming body in his arms. Almost all of them stared, the majority with judgement.

_God, that must suck, having to take care of someone else's poorly-raised kid._

_Not surprising, I hear he's a step-dad. It's not like he knows what he's doing._

_That must be so embarassing._

_I hope that kid's sister isn't as badly-behaved._

_Oh that poor child, and that poor father. He's doing so well staying calm. That's gotta be tough._

Judgemental thoughts didn't trouble him, but he wanted to know where the generous viewpoint came from. Sweeping his gaze over the informal assembly, he made note of the faces, his mysterious defender's among them, as he turned to walk towards the playground. Josh's body was softening. Next would come the tears, then the wobbly hours of recovery, and finally, Edward hoped for Josh's sake, a nap. By the time Bella came home, Josh would be his usual, sunny self.

Fishing in his shoulder bag, Edward pulled out a granola bar and flicked open the wrapper. "Hungry?"

"Hungy," Josh hiccoughed, weeping into Edward's shirt. He wiped his nose on the shoulder seam.

After he ate a few bites, Josh slithered down from Edward's grip, testing the ground beneath his feet. He'd worn Meredith's old, hot-pink Crocs. The playground's wood chips felt pleasantly nubby under the soft rubber soles. He smiled at Edward.

Edward smiled back.

"Man," Josh said.

"Edward," he countered.

"Man," Josh said again, though repeating 'Edward' silently in his mind.

"Dr. Cullen," Edward chuckled.

"Man," Josh giggled, also thinking of Edward's other title.

Edward waited a moment. "Daddy," he said quietly, watching Josh intently.

After a moment's hesitation, Josh pronounced, "Man."

Hearing the thoughts coming up behind him, Edward's shoulders drooped a little. He was always listening—and always listening carefully—but she hadn't been a threat. It was hardly dangerous that she knew his title, but he didn't like it.

"Hi," Carly said.

She was a very determined person.

"Hi," Edward said, giving her a fleeting and unencouraging smile.

"He didn't want to leave, huh?"

"Mmm," Edward said, hoping she would.

No such luck. She sat down on the bench beside him. If it wouldn't have garnered so much attention, he would've groaned, hearing the bent of her thoughts.

"Some kids just need to learn things the hard way."

She didn't think Josh had gone through something difficult? He'd been completely overwhelmed—

"It's important for them to have consistent expectations." Carly added.

The woman, a mother of two very easy-going children, had no direct experience of children with exceptional needs. Her opinion, when she encountered such creatures, was that their parents were simply unskilled, or undisciplined.

He could easily end her lecture—because that's what she was working up to—by telling her Josh was Autistic. But it wasn't her place to know, and he doubted it would make her more understanding in the long-run.

"Children need adults who understand their needs," he countered, his tone making it clear he wasn't lacking in confidence or experience.

She smirked, a knowing sort of smile that said she knew better. "Do you have your own children?" she asked.

Edward looked at Josh and then at her. "Just the ones I'm raising."

She shrugged.

It wasn't that she was tone deaf, her mind was just like so many others he encountered daily: ignorant and judgemental.

Now he chuckled, remembering what Bella had told him at the playground once: "I don't need to educate all the other parents. Besides, that would be exhausting."

Carly was assessing his other possibilities as a parent. However, most of her thoughts had little to do with parenting—unless one counted the activities which led to becoming one.

"I overheard you chatting with your . . . son. You're a doctor?"

"Yes," he said curtly, marvelling that the woman had just admitted eavesdropping on his conversation, and now wanted to discuss it. She was brazen, annoyingly so.

"Butterfly!" Josh said, pointing to the insect on the plant in front of him.

"Oh, that's a moth, sweetie," Carly said.

Josh ignored her, watching the small white-winged creature flutter away over the play structure. He was studying its wings and the way they moved.

Carly continued her unwanted intrusion.

"He's very focused," she noted.

"Yes, he is," Edward agreed. He let his gaze follow Josh's, still locked on the moth, then testing the rainbow of colours on the play structure. He felt a brief thrill of pride at Josh's intelligent observations.

Carly cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'm coordinating something of a contact list for all the kindergarten parents. You know, so we can get to know each other better." She had already imagined too many ways she could enjoy knowing Edward.

"I'd love to be part of that," he said, grinning as he saw his opening. He pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his bag, and scribbled down Bella's email address and phone number. "Here you go."

"Oh," Carly said, pulling back the phone she had been holding out. She'd hoped he would text her. "Thanks."

Edward gave her the most cursory of smiles, and then got up and followed Josh to where he'd wandered, a few feet away. He was absorbed by the flowerbed, making sense of the colours and shapes, playing with the way they fit together, or didn't, fingering a petal on a flower that broke its expected Fibonacci sequence.

Seeing Josh so consumed with what his eyes had captured, Edward waited silently, knowing his words would be wasted at the moment. He would give him words for these things later.

Carly had wandered back to the dwindling group of parents by the school entrance.

"Thank God for small favours," Edward mumbled to himself.

The remainder of the morning was spent quietly examining the new playground and its few flowerbeds. Edward made a mental note to find some plants that would over-winter in the yard. He could see Josh enjoying tending to them.

Where Josh had been quiet, Meredith was a font of words. She had four new friends and hadn't had an accident. And the teacher seemed really nice. He also spoke for part of the day in French.

"Très bon!" Edward exclaimed as they headed home, explaining what he'd said. Mer had stared at him in amazement for just a moment before excitedly asking him to name several more things in French as they walked.

When Josh went down for his afternoon nap, Meredith's words seemed to exhaust themselves, and she busied herself with reproducing the pictures from the book the teacher had given her. Edward tidied and cleaned at his full speed upstairs, then more slowly in the kitchen, getting most of the ingredients for dinner ready. Close to Josh's wake-up, Meredith asked, very, very politely, if she could watch some TV. Edward acquiesced, and when she disappeared into the den, cleaned up the rest of the main floor as quickly as he could without drawing her attention.

Neither of the children noticed that the house was neat and clean.

By the time Bella came home, dinner was in the oven, and Meredith and Josh were bathed and in their pajamas. He'd left a small bowl of cashews and a glass of juice on the kitchen island, right where she would see them when she walked in the door.

Not that he wasn't right there to greet her.

"Wow," she said, taking in the tidy room and chuckling, "you're hired. . . again."

He chuckled too. "We can discuss my compensation later." Bending down, he kissed her, and she blinked back up at him as he pulled away, seeming to have lost her words.

Meredith had heard the door and was up and into the kitchen, ready to communicate every single detail of her first day of Kindergarten to Bella as she followed her mother to her bedroom to change clothes

When asked at the dinner table about his day, Josh only said, "Man," to Bella, his smile and contented expression communicating that all had been well.

After the children were in bed, Bella and Edward retreated as usual to the couch, curling up and enjoying the house's silence.

"It sounds like it went really well today," Bella murmured, eyes closed as she leaned against his arm.

"It did." He hadn't told her about Carly yet.

"Meredith was very excited to learn that you had yet another hidden talent." Bella's eyes were still closed as she said this but she opened them and gave him a little smirk when she saw the confusion on his face. "Parlez vous Francais?"

He gave a tiny shrug and chuckled. "Children are easily impressed."

"Especially by people who are patient with them when they are asked to name-let's see, was it every animal and inanimate object she spotted on the walk home?"

Edward just smiled.

"Anyway, " Bella closed her eyes again as she settled back against him, "she was quite impressed."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Edward spending a few moments listening to Bella's even breathing and both her steady heartbeat and the more rapid one of the baby growing inside her. It was clear her active day had not done her any harm, although she was obviously tired. He was expecting her to fall asleep when her eyes suddenly popped open again.

"I forgot to ask! Did you exchange contact information with anyone?" she asked.

Edward pretended to clear his throat. "I did."

"Who?" She sounded excited.

"Well, I should say I didn't exchange contact information, but I did put your name on a parent contact list for the whole kindergarten."

Her face fell a tiny bit. "Oh."

"What?" he asked. "I was supposed to, yes?"

"Yes, no, it's fine—I mean, thank you." The worried dimple had appeared between her eyebrows.

"What's wrong?" he pressed.

She shook her head.

"Something's wrong," he said. "What is it?"

"Why _my_ name?" she asked. "And not both our names?"

Ah. He grinned and then explained.

"Oh," Bella said, smirking a little. "Right. I should've expected that."

"I don't think you should," Edward admonished her.

"You, Edward Cullen, don't expect women to fall all over you? Oh creature with all the allurements to entice its prey?"

He leaned into her, making her shift so that he was holding her waist, bringing his face nose-to-nose with her own. When they were this close, he knew his scent tended to stun her slightly, and he took advantage of this fact now. "There's only one person I want to entice. I don't want my wife to ever worry that another woman would so much as capture my attention." He kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, and finally, her lips. "I am hers, and hers alone—"

This profession was interrupted by a shrieked, "MAAAAAAN!" from upstairs.

"Except when I am her son's," he sighed.

Bella put a hand to the bottom of her belly, supporting it through her laughter.

Edward moved quickly up the stairs, smiling at the sound of Bella's amusement and already anticipating his return to her arms. The tingle in his chest was unfamiliar, a perception of warmth in direct contrast to his frigid body, and he wondered at it. But as he reached Josh's doorway and his eyes met the tearful and relieved ones of the boy he had come to love, he didn't have to wonder what he was feeling anymore.

It was joy.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	48. Old, new, borrowed & blue

A/N for 2019-02-23: A reader recently commented with concerns that I wouldn't wrap up all my plot points. Don't worry, I will. The plot for this story is outlined in a stupidly-detailed timeline / plot-point document, Including a pregnancy timeline for Bella (she's Due November 18, BTW). The same reader was also concerned that the story had "gotten away" from me, words-wise. Nope. The length and character-centred development of this story are intentional on my part.

Editing: I would be remiss in not thanking Eeyorefan12 for her work. Each of the chapters for this story goes through at least four rounds of editing from her alone, and then a final proofread from her once the chapter is live (where ultimately, a few errors are found). If I was paying her for her services, I would be in debt. She's amazing . . . and she does this for free.

So, in a related note, we'd like to ask that any grammar corrections NOT be sent by review. I check my PM's regularly. Feel free to reach out that way.

Enough editorializing from me. Happy reading!

~ Erin

* * *

"You want to wear _blue_," Alice said again, looking at Bella, who was holding the long blue dress up to her chest.

"Well, it _is_ a lovely shade on you," Esme said diplomatically, putting a cautionary hand on Alice's arm.

Rosalie's tone was flat. "That's not a wedding dress, but if you want to look like you're going to a cotillion—"

"Rose!" Esme said.

Rosalie only shrugged.

Bella looked down at her stomach, nearly seven-months round and protruding like a small bowling ball from her midsection. "I don't exactly qualify for white."

Both Alice and Rosalie opened their mouths to speak, but Esme held up a silencing finger. Gently, she pulled Bella away towards the small sitting room nestled in the corner of the bridal boutique. "I think we'll take you up on that offer of tea," Esme murmured softly to the shop attendant, who scurried away. The woman had been nervous since Bella and the Cullen women had walked into the store.

After she helped Bella to a chair, Esme pulled an ottomona up for her feet. Bella chuckled, but put her feet up.

"Thank you," she said to Esme.

The bridal shop was a large one, sprawling through several of the quaint storefronts in the oldest part of the city. Alice had assured Bella the store would have a wide range of maternity bridal wear, at which Bella had raised a dubious eyebrow. So far, though, her expectations had been pleasantly disrupted. She hadn't had to buy anything so specialized for her first wedding, opting for a very plain dress when she and Matt had married before a justice of the peace. She hadn't been showing then. Now, she thought wearing anything light-coloured would only emphasize the blimplike effect her body was producing.

"Esme, you are not going to try to convince me that I in any way qualify for white—"

"No, I'm not."

"Well, good." Bella went to stand again, stopping when Esme's cool hand laid itself over top her own.

"I'm not going to try to convince you of that, but I am going to ask you what you think Edward would like."

A guilty squirm lodged itself in her belly. Yes, she could imagine what he would dream of—but she amended the thought quickly; his dreams would never have included marrying a woman unmistakably pregnant with another man's child.

Bella looked down at her belly again, and then at Esme.

"That is not what I was talking about," Esme said, "and you know that. He's delighted to be a father."

"No, I was more thinking about his dream wedding not including marrying the Halloween pumpkin."

"He's marrying you. This is his dream wedding," Esme said gently.

The pregnancy-induced tears chose this as their moment to appear again—for the second time that morning. The first had been when they walked into the bridal shop.

"Oh for crud's sake," Bella muttered, looking for a tissue in her purse. Esme held one out to her. "Thanks," Bella snuffled.

"He loves you so much, Bella."

"I know."

"He's as happy as I've ever seen him. He's so excited to marry you. You would not believe the lengths to which he is going, thinking about what you would like him to wear, how to make this perfect for you. The conversation he and Carlisle had about cuff-links the other day . . ." She rolled her eyes.

Bella laughed, trying to imagine Carlisle being so occupied with accessories, and Esme smiled.

"Why don't you try on a few dresses? If you're still dead-set against . . . lighter shades, then broaden the colour spectrum a bit."

Looking out at the racks of dresses, Bella sighed a little. She would look like a blimp. A complete and total blimp. She stopped herself abruptly, reminding herself of how much appreciation Edward had shown for what her changing shape meant. Her vanity, already a shy creature, scurried away, banished by thoughts of Edward.

"Okay," she said.

Another half-hour of dresses later, Bella was exhausted and beginning to feel a little disheartened, when Alice said, "Oh—oh!", clapping her hands together.

"What?" Bella, Rose and Esme asked in unison.

"You'll see," Alice said, smiling while looking at her phone.

The shop attendant eyed Alice with curiosity, but then went back to the racks where the maternity dresses were kept, huffing a little under the weight of the several she carried back to Bella.

Bella didn't even look at the new dress she was handed, putting it on mechanically with Rose's help, and then lifting her gaze towards the bank of mirrors in front of her, mentally prepared for another reject.

The sight that greeted her made her gasp.

The simple silk dress was cut with a flattering cowl neck and cap sleeves. The rich ivory warmed the pink in her cheeks and the auburn in her hair.

"Wow." It was all Bella could think.

"I'll say," Esme agreed.

"Perfect," Alice sighed.

"Definitely not a pumpkin," Rose added, nodding and winking at Bella in the mirror.

"Shall I put that on the possibles rack?" the attendant asked, eyeing the empty space to Bella's right.

"Nope, you can put it in a bag. I'm done," Bella said.

There were several exclamations at this from the Cullen women—and the bridal attendant, mostly about accessories.

"Surprise me," Bella said, taking off the dress, and reaching gratefully for her own clothes.

Rose and Alice looked like they wanted to argue some more, but Esme silenced them with a look. "I'm sure Alice and Rose would be delighted to choose those things," she announced.

Her own clothes on, Bella pulled out her phone, texting Edward to ask how his own clothing expedition was going. He'd taken Josh with him to look at suits. Bella had kept the nature of the day's errand from Meredith, not wanting her to see the dress before the day and knowing she wouldn't have the practiced discipline of the other family members not to think of it around Edward. The one thing she wanted for the wedding was for the dress to at least be a surprise for Edward. Emmett had volunteered to take Meredith off to visit a friend for a playdate. When they'd left, Meredith was playing dress up with Emmett, who had donned a rhinestone tiara with good humour.

Bella had thought Edward exceptionally brave, taking Josh suit-shopping, but he'd assured her they would take breaks, and that he had Jasper's gifts to put to work if things really fell apart.

Just as she hit 'send', her phone rang—it was Renėe. Taking a fortifying breath, she picked up the call. "Hey Mom, I'm out with Edward's mom and sisters. Just found the dress." There were excited squeals and exclamations on the other end of the line, which devolved into what had become Renėe's regular expressions of guilt. She and Phil weren't coming to the wedding. While it had been something of a relief for Bella, Renėe couldn't seem to miss bringing it up every time they spoke. With Phil's promotion to assistant, he simply couldn't take the time, and Bella had suggested that she and Edward could come visit them after the baby was born. She'd kept the timing of the trip deliberately vague, mostly because of Edward's concerns around her health, but also because they needed to visit when they could be sure of cooperative weather.

"Mom, we've been through this before," Bella finally interjected when Renee stopped to take a breath. "It's probably better this way. Charlie's the only guest, and it's going to be an exceptionally low-key affair—I'm going to feel like we need to do more if more people come." She listened to more of Renėe's ramblings, and then distracted her with a description of the dress, before winding things up with, "Okay, the girls want to go for lunch. I gotta run. Talk to you soon?" Alice and Rosalie were still deep in conversation over something small at the counter, but the excuse worked, and Bella hung up.

"We'll send her lots of pictures and video," Esme said, coming to sit by her.

"I know," Bella said. Still, she didn't feel badly at all. Renėe hadn't been a real part of her life for a very long time, and she had no desire to renew their frayed relationship. Esme was well aware of the state of things, but Bella suspected that Esme's maternal urgings had more to do with her desire to share the day than Bella's feelings.

"Have you had any success convincing your dad to fly up?" Esme asked.

"Yes, didn't Edward tell you what the clincher was?"

"No," Esme said, frowning.

"He, Charlie, Josh and Emmett are going fishing."

Esme put a hand to her mouth, laughing. Bella wondered if she was more amused by the thought of Edward's abhorrence of the smell of fish or of Emmett having to be quiet for an extended period but both were sacrifices. "Oh, well, bless their hearts. That is love, isn't it?" she finally said. "Patience and kindness."

"They'll need both to fish with my Dad," Bella grumbled. Her father was a reasonable man, but not when it came to anyone messing with his fishing. At least Edward and possibly even his brother wouldn't have trouble sitting still, unlike Bella had when she was little. And Josh had already demonstrated his fascination with fishing on the day of the battle.

She was glad that Charlie was coming to the wedding. He'd been a veritable zombie since Sue's death, operating mechanically, moving through his daily life with a kind of feigned normalcy that had been painful to watch. She knew this hadn't changed much since they'd returned home to Vancouver, and worried often for him. If he had agreed to go fishing, though, that was something.

Esme smiled gently at Bella, punctuating this with an equally soft squeeze of her hand. But Bella's eyes were drawn back to Rose and Alice. Their posture was brittle, and they weren't looking at the accessories on the wide table before them. Alice was staring at her phone, and Rose was watching her sister. Even for its speed off of her lips, Bella knew the shape of Alice's otherwise silent, "I don't know."

"What's going on?" Bella asked. Her stomach took a nose-dive. In most cases, Alice knew everything.

From the look Alice gave, Bella knew it wasn't anything good. Coming closer, Alice said, "We've been summoned. We have a deadline."

And while it left her gut partly churning with guilt, Bella felt a pang of relief. It wasn't Victoria. Even though she'd seen the ashes and had no reason not to believe Alice's vision or what she and Jasper had found, doubt lingered in her like mould, ready to sprout and spread given the right conditions. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "When?"

"All Souls Day," Alice said. "November first."

How poetic, Bella thought. Right after Halloween. She wondered if this was a vampire version of a joke.

"It'll be okay," Alice said, slightly misinterpreting whatever she saw in Bella's expression. "We have a plan to keep you safe."

"I know," Bella said. Yes, she knew that Edward and Alice had discussed this. The Volturi had already once allowed Bella's knowledge of their kind to go unpunished and she and the Cullens didn't want to test their luck on this front again. When Alice was read by Aro, she planned to make sure he would see that either Carlisle or Edward would change Bella once the baby was born—and that the children would live with their maternal grandfather, at least while their mother was a newborn. As the children and Charlie were innocent of the Cullens' nature, they were safe. Bella couldn't help but be dubious; this 'vision' was not the truth, after all, but Edward had assured her that Alice could manage it.

"I'm not worried about us, Alice," Bella said, lying only a little. "It's just—we're the reason you have to go. It doesn't seem fair.

"Some sacrifices are worth making, Bella," Alice said. She smiled at her. "But we'll see you married, and possibly meet your baby, too. It won't be forever."

But it could be, Bella knew. Alice's lie was a kind one. Bella smiled softly.

"I mean it, Bella," Alice said in a low voice. "I want to know it's worth it, us leaving. Live your life. Love my brother. Raise your children. It's worth it."

And because she couldn't quite speak over the lump in her throat, Bella nodded instead.

\- 0 -

Later that night, when the children were in bed, Bella curled up against Edward, a stack of papers on her lap, trying her best to focus on the words in front of her. The news from the Volturi earlier had cast a slight pall over the rest of the day, but after Edward's private conversation with his sister, he had apparently acceded to her request not to focus on it for the time being. Bella knew that no one was giving up on finding a way out for Alice and Jasper but they were both adamant that talking about it should wait until after the wedding.

The student paper in her hand offered up the standard bland drivel, and Bella sighed with mild disappointment, making her comments, and then slipping it to the back of the pile. The next piece made her perk up a bit more. It was from Chelsea, who she'd been delighted to find was in her class again. Chelsea's writing was interesting, as was her topic. While her insights were fractured at times, at least they glued themselves back together by the end of her writing—

"Is that the same Chelsea I met?" Edward asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Uh-huh," she said, still reading.

Edward's lips brushed her neck as he hummed.

Bella groaned. "I will never get these done if you keep that up."

"That's okay. I can mark them for you."

Bella closed her eyes, leaning back into his touch. She was tired, and his hands were massaging her back and her hips, and then sliding around to the front of her thighs. "I am a terrible teacher, but I so want to let you mark these—except for this one." She turned to face him, sinking into his kiss.

The embrace and kisses continued, morphing and shifting as the papers slid to the floor.

"If you're really too tired to mark, do you think it might be time to consider taking leave?" Edward asked, when they finally parted so she could breathe.

This drew a much less pleasured moan from Bella. "No, it's too soon, and I'd be bored."

"I can keep you from being bored," he murmured, running his tongue over the seam of her lips as if requesting entrance.

"I still want to work," she half-gasped, as his hand slid between her legs.

But it wasn't work her mind was on as Edward's hand did other things. Before the night was over, he'd most pleasantly distracted her from all things work-related, letting her slip into an unusually deep and restful sleep.

\- 0 -

Bella kept her eyes closed for as long as she could. It was childish, but she really didn't want to face today. This is stupid, she told herself, but it didn't make any difference.

She was aware that Edward's finger had begun to trace a lazy pattern over her arm. It was his way of telling her that he knew she was awake, and that he wouldn't bother her with words until she spoke first.

His fingers were moving faster than they usually did, and she wondered if he was impatient. Likely, she determined. While she had wanted to avoid the day, Edward had clearly not been of the same mind

Just get over yourself, she muttered silently, still fighting the urge to stuff a pillow over her head and wish the day away.

She had come to tolerate her birthday, but it held a special place in the cosmos of unfortunate events. After Edward had left, it took her several years before she'd even consider acknowledging, let alone celebrating it. Her children had been the final nudge, with Meredith frequently asking why she didn't want to have a party, presents, or even a cake. The cupcakes at Charlie's house the year before had been the first time in a decade Bella had actually enjoyed something resembling a birthday party in her honour.

She rolled over to face Edward. "I am a huge chicken," she finally announced by way of greeting.

"That's funny, you smell so much better than most chickens I've been around," Edward replied.

With a hand to support her wobbling abdomen, Bella laughed, a whole and fulsome sound.

When the movement subsided, Edward asked, "And why, may I ask, are you a chicken?"

"Oh, you know—today," Bella said, waving her hand around vaguely.

"Happy Birthday," he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut, almost recoiling at the words.

"I fully intend for this to be a good day." Edward continued.

"Mmm," she said, not trusting herself to utter words. She might as well cluck, for all the courage she had.

"A certain someone convinced me to make special breakfast for you for today. She might even be waiting with a crȇpe spatula downstairs, an apron, and a special little chef's hat. The other helper might still be similarly attired. Courtesy of Alice, of course."

Bella opened her eyes again. "Do I get to see you wearing a chef's hat? Just a chef's hat?"

He leaned in close, hovering over her, stunning her with both his scent and his nearness, "For your birthday, anything."

"Okay," she breathed out belatedly, feeling a little lightheaded at this prospect.

With a smart peck on her cheek, he was gone. She could hear excited squeals and giggles downstairs, along with the clank of pans.

So far so good, she told herself.

Pushing herself upright, she donned the rubber gloves that sat by the bedside, and picked up the thick compression stockings beside them. After bunching them up, she managed to wrestle them over her feet, smoothing them up her legs one sweaty, breathless inch at a time. Halfway up the second leg, she laid back down to take a break before getting them completely on. Edward had brought the stockings home and then had her in a fit of giggles, showing her how to don the heavy hosiery. He had made it look easy. She felt like a clown at a freak show each and every time. He'd offered to help her each morning, but the few times she'd taken him up on it, they'd been . . . well, distracted. And she'd almost been late for work.

Out of habit, Bella took her phone with her to the bathroom. Working as a substitute teacher, she had gotten used to keeping her phone on her in the mornings and evenings, when the callouts happened. Brushing her teeth, she scrolled through her email, deleting the spam and mentally prioritizing a few tasks. Her Dad had emailed her a card. She smiled, reading through its mushy sentiments. Charlie might look rough on the outside, but he was all marshmallow underneath.

Putting the phone down, she splashed some water on her face, having a good long look at her features in the mirror. Her face was a mature one, certainly, the adolescent puppy fat a few years gone now. Overall, the lines were sharper, cheek bones more defined; the suggestion of crows' feet had begun to spread from her eyes. She liked those. It meant she smiled, and that was good.

"Twenty-eight," she said to herself. Not so many years on the earth, but so much packed within them. Her right hand fingered the scar at her left wrist, running a thumb over the cool, raised flesh.

Abandoning this mark, she considered the many good things in her life, enumerating them.

Victoria's shadow no longer hung over them. Still, it was hard not to struggle with vague feelings of guilt and something else she couldn't quite identify. Good people had died because of her, even if it was through no fault of her own. And she had been worried and stressed for so long that it was difficult to believe that those particular struggles were over for them. There were so many new issues to think about, future plans to discuss. And she refused to even consider the question Edward had asked her only once and the eventual consequences of the response she had given him. The response she would still give him, even now, if she were being honest. No, today was not a day to conjure up concerns she had banished for the time being.

"Fricking birthday," she muttered to herself. How like her to start down the road to pointless worrying. "Not today," she promised the mirror, tapping it.

She was only in her underclothes when Edward reappeared, her robe in hand. "Can you handle getting dressed later?" he asked.

"Okay," she said, trying to hide her apprehension. What was waiting that couldn't last a few minutes before she was dressed? "Wait," she blurted out. "There isn't a surprise party waiting for me downstairs, is there?"

"Absolutely not," he said, chuckling. "Just your children —and breakfast. Which, right now, includes an unguarded jar of chocolate-hazelnut spread." He held out his arms as she finished tying her robe around her waist, lifting an inquiring eyebrow.

"If you can't stand waiting for me to walk downstairs—"

She didn't get a chance to finish the statement, dizzied by the speed at which the door to the kitchen appeared.

"Nope," Edward said, grinning broadly.

"Happy birthday, Mama!" Meredith squealed. Josh seemed to second the sentiment, bouncing on his toes. They were wearing aprons and matching chef hats. Her heart melted at the sight of them.

"Thank you," she said, detaching herself from Edward and giving them each a hug.

Josh pointed to his chest, "Arp-on." Then he looked at Edward. "Man, arp-on."

Looking at Edward, Bella realized belatedly that Edward was wearing an apron—her apron. "Very nice," she said, offering him a sly smile.

He winked at her. "I'll have to borrow Meredith's hat later."

Meredith pressed a large rectangular box into Bella's hands. "Open mine first, please!" she said.

"How about some breakfast first?" Edward suggested.

Bella's stomach growled loudly. "Good idea."

Breakfast was a mostly silent affair, punctuated with appreciative noises over cheese blintzes and nutella-banana crepes.

"My god," Bella intoned over her last bite, "those were amazing."

"Thank you," Meredith and Edward said together. Josh held his plate to his face, licking it for the last vestiges of sugar.

"Presents now?" Meredith asked, looking to Edward.

Interesting, Bella thought. It was the first time she'd sought permission from Edward when Bella was also present. There'd been a few attempted power tussles with Meredith and Edward, although none that had required her intervention...yet. This was a very good step, all things considered.

There were two presents from Josh and Meredith—or, rather, from her children with some distinct Cullen assistance and funds. Bella didn't think the average five-year-old would go shopping at Prada's maternity wear boutique, but the sky was the limit with Alice around to help.

"Thank you, it's just what I need" she told Meredith, privately rolling her eyes at Edward while he smirked.

It was at least a practical gift, she told herself. Her maternity wardrobe had shrunk, not having had to stretch into the cooler weather before. The warm dress was something she could comfortably wear to work.

Josh's present was much smaller, a box only as big as his two hands, now sticky with smeared banana and chocolate. Inside was a pair of golden sunflower earrings. "Mama," Josh said by way of explanation. "Yellow."

She blinked back tears. "They're beautiful, Josh. Thank you," she managed.

"Why don't you two go get dressed while I clean up, and Mama gets ready for work," Edward said.

Alone, Edward moved to the seat adjacent to her, pulling Bella onto his lap. "So, not too bad so far?"

"No, pretty amazing," Bella said, letting a breath out.

"So, I have a present for you too," Edward said.

"Ah," she replied, nervously.

"But I didn't wrap it," he murmured, planting a kiss on her jaw bone.

"Mm." It was hard to think while Edward paid such attention to her.

"It's kind of impractical to wrap up a heart."

Her eyes sought the cold sensation that stayed in her hand when his left hers. Located in her palm was a gold, dollar-sized heart, strung on a simple gold chain.

"And this one seemed a lot prettier, anyway," he said.

When she opened her eyes after their kiss concluded, she was afraid to glance at the clock on the wall; it had lasted that long, and she'd been lost so completely in his touch.

"It opens, too," he said.

It did. Inside was a small picture of all of them, taken in the Cullens' garden in Forks.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

"Just like you," he whispered back.

He was so good to her. Too good. Her grip on his hair would've been painful for a human. He growled in response, and then reluctantly pulled himself away, also looking at the clock. "It's late. Can I drive you to work?"

"I think that's permissible for a birthday girl."

She closed her eyes during a lot of the drive. Josh made encouraging "Whee!" sounds from the back and she could only imagine Meredith's wide-eyed expression at the landscape flying past them.

While the secretary complimented Bella on her new dress, no one else said anything that indicated they knew about her birthday. At lunch, when the door slammed shut after the last student had left, Bella chucked her shoes off and put her feet up on the desk, fishing for her bag in the bottom drawer. The blood that had taken up residence in her feet made a slow migration back towards her heart, and she groaned in relief, rubbing her back with her other hand. It wasn't getting any easier to be pregnant. She just hoped she could stay working until the end of October. She'd taken leave far too early the two previous times, and found herself anxious and irritable beyond bearing. Her psychiatrist had also expressed some concern about her boredom and agitation, which only compounded the negative feelings.

Of course, it would be different now, she told herself.

It still wasn't easy to believe, much as she wanted to—much as she knew she should. They got to be hopeful now. Victoria had been dealt with. But the layer of irksome doubt was so deeply buried, Bella knew it was a strata that would take a long time to excavate.

"We're getting married," she told herself. It helped to say it aloud —to keep reminding herself of the good things yet to come. Pulling out her lunch, she took a moment to guess at the contents before prying off the lid. She was wrong, as usual. It was a surprise every time, and the excellent products of Edward's culinary skills made her smile.

Her phone emitted a flurry of loud pings, and she reluctantly put her feet down so that she could reach it, wondering why there would be so many messages or texts all at once. She and Edward usually texted or called at lunch. Her heart sped joyfully even at the thought of this remote contact. Perhaps he was sending several all at once.

But there were no messages from Edward.

Sitting at the top of the screen was an email from Victoria.

Out of shock, Bella felt the phone beginning to slip from her now shaking hand. She fumbled to catch it, but was too late. It fell screen-first to the floor, where the glassy smack made her think of bones and other bodily bits breaking.

She was gone, Bella told herself. Alice had seen it happen in many different ways. She had brought her the witch's fricking ashes, for God's sake. They were safe. They were safe. She forced herself to repeat this until her breathing slowed.

There must be a perfectly logical reason for this email to be there. She didn't have anything to worry about.

With a frustrated grunt, Bella bent over, her hand shaking as she reached for her phone. Its appearance confirmed what she'd heard. Several starry cracks marred the screen.

She made herself look at the message again. This time, her mind grasped the date.

"Oh my God," she breathed out in relief, wiping her hand over her face. The email was dated from the summer. It was the same one she'd showed Edward. Beneath it was a list of other email messages from the same period that were also saved in her phone for one reason or another. It was just some sort of technical glitch.

She closed her eyes, taking another steadying breath. When she opened them again, she swiped at the screen, happy to delete the email from her life—resolving to delete all thoughts of Victoria from it, too.

"Screw you," she muttered , and then hissed, feeling the bite of broken glass on her finger. The cracked screen had left a shiny shard embedded in her skin, a swelling sphere of blood cushioning it. The offending email stared stubbornly back at her.

She was able to pull out her dustbin from under the desk before the vomiting began. By the time she was done, she was miserable from the strain and the adrenaline hangover. Certain she had vomited all she could, she risked looking at her finger again. The sliver was deeply embedded and she'd need help to remove it. Not quite waddling, but not moving with anything like grace, she walked to the office, longing briefly for Edward's calming presence before resigning herself to the mercies of the school's first-aid attendant.

It was ten minutes of paperwork and ten seconds of treatment, but at least the first-aid attendant took the sliver out first.

"Good grief, what did you do to that?" the woman asked, catching a glimpse of Bella's phone screen.

"Oh, I'm just clumsy," Bella said, waving her cut hand in the air.

"You don't say," the woman mumbled. "No problem. Want me to fix it for you? I mean, it won't be pretty, but it'll work without you slicing up your fingers until you can get it properly fixed."

"Can you?" Bella asked.

Apparently, she could. A few minutes later, Bella's screen was restored to usefulness, neatly held together with a few strips of well-placed packing tape.

Bella had never felt so gratified, deleting an email.

"Good riddance," Bella muttered as she finally pressed delete, while unlocking her classroom door. She added other, silent epithets for good measure. "You are not going to ruin today, and you can no longer ruin my life. In fact, someone's already ripped you into tiny little pieces and burnt your shitty remains to ash."

"Uh, who did what to whom, Ms. H.?" Chelsea's voice asked from behind her.

Bella dropped the phone again, nearly falling over when she bent to retrieve it.

"Sorry, I was just—ah, I was just—"

"Going to kill someone?" Chelsea supplied.

"It was metaphorical," Bella said quickly. "Just a problem I have. I was talking . . . metaphorically." Her face felt hot.

I am the world's worst liar, she thought.

But Chelsea hadn't seemed to have noticed this. Her face lit up, and the words that spilled out of her were full of enthusiasm. "I do that too! I personify my problems, only, I reason with them—not kill them. Maybe you should do that. Violence isn't good Ms. H., I mean, you have a baby coming. You should probably get a handle on those emotions." Her face fell a bit, like she'd remembered who she was talking to, and she looked down, ducking into the classroom without further comment.

Get a handle on my emotions. Bella had to stifle the laughter that bubbled up at Chelsea's words. Although her star student had no way of knowing it, she had given Bella exactly what she needed in that moment: clarity. The girl was absolutely right.

She was done with worrying, done with setting limitations on hope, and done with giving anymore of her time to Victoria.

"Happy Birthday to me," she whispered, and for the first time in ten years, she meant it.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	49. Merely a suggested boundary

Posted: 2020-03-08. This story would not be possible without Eeyorefan12's work. Many thanks to her for all that she does with this tale.

On a related note, someone nominated this story for the TwiFicFandom awards over on twificfandomawards DOT blogspot DOT com. Thank you to whoever nominated it.

Cheers,

Erin

* * *

"Yes," Bella said to Joshua, "there will be lots of treats tomorrow. But right now, it is bedtime." She helped him slip his pajama top over his head.

"Bed," Josh agreed, pushing a hand through the cuff of his shirt, a profound look of concentration on his face. This accomplished, he called out, "Man?"

"I'm here," Edward replied, voice oddly muffled. He appeared now at the door to Josh's room, several pins held between his lips, as he pulled a needle through the fabric of Meredith's dress.

In the excitement of preparing for the wedding tomorrow, Meredith had tried her dress on—again—and dissolved into panicked tears when she accidently tore part of it in the process.

Bella had been downstairs, but had come puffing upwards, hearing the commotion.

"No, no," Edward had said, kneeling by Meredith, "I can fix it. Just give me a minute."

"I think we should call Alice." The pitch of Meredith's voice had risen along with her anxiety, and she had looked to her mother for support.

"I can sew just as well as Alice," Edward had scoffed gently.

Meredith's expression had grown more incredulous. Bella had only lifted her eyebrows, waiting to hear Meredith's objection.

"But, Edward . . . you're a man."

"Oh, Meredith, I'm the man," Edward had chuckled, glancing at Josh and then winking at Bella. "And I will fix your dress after dinner."

So he was making good on his promise now. Meredith stood like a sentinel behind him, clearly checking up on his work.

With another neat stitch, he said, "Scissors," which Meredith handed to him efficiently. Bella couldn't help smiling at the image of her daughter playing nurse to 'Doctor Edward'.

"Voila," he pronounced, draping the dress over his arm, pocketing all the pins. "No more trying it on until you have some help, okay?"

Meredith's nod was solemn. Then she suddenly threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around Edward's legs with a choked, "Thank you!"

Startled but clearly pleased, Edward rubbed her back before handing over the garment. Meredith walked carefully back to her room, the dusty rose dress spread out over her arms like the most sacred of offerings.

"Nice," Bella grinned.

"Man, nice," Josh agreed, adding, "Book!" for Edward.

When the children were finally, and so very reluctantly settled in bed, Bella was too, a new novel in hand. As Edward lay down beside her, she put it away. "Everything ready for tomorrow?"

"I think so," he said. "And if it isn't, I have a few hours to fix things."

"True," Bella said, smiling, then asking, "no cold feet?"

Edward laughed. "Not figuratively, no. And you?"

"None here," she said, wriggling her toes under the bedsheet.

Edward smiled still, but the expression faltered a bit. "Are you okay that we're not doing this more traditionally, with me being here?"

Chuckling, Bella stared at her visibly pregnant abdomen. "Oh, yeah, it's completely ruined my traditional plans." She shook her head, still smiling. "We're getting married tomorrow. I'm happy."

There was a silent, 'me too,' in Edward's kiss.

He pulled back and leaned on his hand, watching her. "You've been much . . . happier since your birthday. Freer. I was wondering if there was something to passing that as a positive milestone."

"Mm," Bella said, briefly raising her eyebrows as she gave it some thought. "You could say that. It was . . . liberating, I suppose."

Edward continued to eye her, and she watched him back, wondering what else was on his mind. His musings remained a mystery, as he leaned towards her again, planting a very chaste kiss on her forehead. "I should let you sleep."

She couldn't help but groan a little in disappointment.

"Because I certainly won't be letting you sleep much tomorrow," Edward promised, leaning in again to whisper this in her ear and then pulling away to wait for her reaction.

She wanted to laugh, to make the moment light, but found herself holding her breath instead as she lost herself in the intensity of his gaze.

"Breathe, Bella," Edward said, gently nuzzling her cheek and then the line of her jaw until she relaxed enough to do as he said.

"I'm holding you to your promise." she told him once she had drawn in enough air to respond.

\- 0 -

"So, Emmett, how was the, uh...fishing?" Bella asked coyly, putting a glass of water to her lips in the Cullens' kitchen.

Emmett shot her a glance from where he was playing cars with Josh. It was the closest thing to a dirty look that Bella had ever gotten from him. He pointed a finger in her direction. "The things we do for love. That's all I'm sayin'."

Bella giggled. She hadn't heard the whole story yet, but judging from the catch Charlie had come back with, and the fullness of her freezer, it had gone well for the human contingent. Of course, this meant that her almost in-laws had to endure a smell they had assured her was thoroughly revolting.

Jasper made a derisive sound as he walked into the kitchen, eyeing Emmett with eyes narrowed to slits.

"What?" Bella asked, surprised by this unusual behaviour.

"Don't mind him. Jasper's just sore about our bet," Emmett explained.

"What bet?" She asked suspiciously. There were near-constant bets between the two of them, and nothing was so sacred as to be off-limits—Bella and her children included. She had put her foot down recently when Emmett suggested he and Jasper see which of them could make Josh eat the most broccoli in one sitting.

"Oh, sports bet."

"Ah," Bella said, a little relieved.

"But the loser had to actually catch and hook the fish," Emmett said, grinning.

Oh.

Now Emmett leaned over toward his brother, sniffing dramatically, "Yep, still smells like fish," he whispered to Jasper.

Jasper eyed his brother coolly enough that Bella tensed slightly.

Edward arrived at this point, shooting a warning look at his brothers before slipping his arm around Bella and placing a soft kiss to her neck. "Are you ready for Alice?"

She turned to face him, smiling. How could she not smile, having Edward in front of her? His features sharpened under her pointed focus, and she sighed watching his bright golden eyes. "I'm ready," she breathed. She was certainly ready for him.

The next kiss was not so soft, but a promise of things to come later.

"Hey, hey, hey! Enough of that. That part comes after," Emmett said, nudging Edward in the ribs as he walked past his brother to pick up his phone.

The wedding commissioner, who had arrived early and was being escorted into the kitchen by Carlisle at that moment, smirked as he surreptitiously eyed Bella's abdomen. It was clear from his expression that he'd heard Emmett's words and determined that a certain ship had already sailed. Bella rolled her eyes at Emmett, sighing a little as Edward's hand brushed by hers.

"Very soon," he whispered, "I do believe we will be united in way that no one but God can part. Let alone Emmett." The corner of his lips lifted in a beautiful and breath-inhibiting grin.

"Yep," Alice's voice called from behind her, "but even God isn't going to let you get married in a pair of off-the-rack maternity jeans, so upstairs you." A small and firm hand emphasized this point, tugging gently at Bella's elbow.

Upstairs, Bella watched in the mirror as Rose worked on her hair, the time marked by the occasional wordless look between the two sisters. She was grateful for the companionable silence, as it let her listen to Esme try to talk to Charlie in the living room below.

This was a venture that even the gracious Esme found challenging. She'd been able to charm him into easy conversation before Sue's death, but now, she might as well have attempted chit-chat with a rock. He gave answers in their most cursory forms, sometimes a near-grunt being all that could be pressed from him.

Edward had told her that Jasper had felt a brief flicker of happiness from Charlie on their fishing trip, but it had been quickly muddied by his ever-present sorrow.

Of course it had.

When Bella had suggested postponing the wedding plans, Charlie had insisted they go ahead. He'd waved away her attempt to say it was because of the baby and told her there was no point in her holding back her joy for the sake of his grief. So here they were, three living creatures, seven of the living dead, and one approximating something in-between.

Bella sighed.

"You know, it isn't the the bride that's meant to be blue," Rose remarked quietly.

Bella gave her a half-smile. "My dad," she said by way of explanation.

Rose nodded in understanding.

Turning a few degrees to her right, Bella eyed Meredith. Alice was attempting to shape her curls into submission, an unusually vexed look on her normally placid face. Bella empathized. Meredith's hair had a mind of its own. As did Josh's. She sincerely hoped no one was trying to do anything with his curls. The thought of Emmett wielding a curling-iron made her chuckle. Of course, with Edward, all things were possible. When Josh had seen Edward's suit, he'd communicated a desire for his own 'just like Man's'. She was looking forward to seeing the two of them in their matching attire.

A faint rap at the door drew her attention.

"Is it okay if I come in?" Charlie asked.

"Sure," Alice said. "I think we're all done here."

In the mirror, Rose's eyes flashed to Alice's. Bella expected Rose wanted to do more with her hair and makeup, but Rose only nodded, smiling at Bella and Charlie as she and Alice left with Meredith, murmuring something about a snack.

"Hey Dad," Bella said, turning to face him.

"Hey yourself," he said, forcing a smile to briefly lift his cheeks. He sat on the chair by Bella, nudging at one of the make-up brushes on the vanity. "Fancy," he observed.

"Yeah," Bella agreed, wondering what had brought him upstairs.

When he spoke, the question surprised her. "Do you wish you'd done something a bit more . . . fancy, I guess, with Matt?"

"No," she said gently, still trying to fathom where this conversation was coming from.

"Hmm," Charlie said, looking at the brushes again. "I wondered if you were just trying to be practical then, if you were worried about asking for more, for help—"

"Dad, no," Bella said, understanding now. "That wasn't something Matt or I wanted. This is different." She smiled. "This is Edward and me."

Charlie nodded a little, as if assuring himself of this. "Okay. Because I know you're grown up, and you're independent, but I'm always your Dad, and I'm always here to help. I just want you to know that."

Bella had to wait a moment before speaking again. "I know that, Dad."

"I really mean that," he said. "If you ever need me for anything, or anything from me, I'm there for you."

She nodded, more worried now. It must have shown on her face, because he hurried out the next words.

"Sorry, I'm sounding like a sop. I'm just . . . I wish I'd said things to Sue, done things differently with Sue. I don't want anything left unsaid with you. You just never know what life will throw at you."

"I know," Bella whispered, reaching out and taking his hand.

Charlie cleared his throat. "Speaking of Sue." He pulled a small box from his coat pocket. "She got this for you for today."

Bella released his hand and took the box, opening it to reveal a silver oval pendant shaped as a howling wolf, its one eye a bright sapphire blue. The fine box-chain of the necklace caught the light.

"The wolf is the Quileute symbol, I guess you'd call it. Sue said she wanted you to know that you were always protected by her tribe," he explained.

It was a tug at her heart, those words. They'd been true with Jacob. And Sue had thought they'd been true, too. For Charlie's sake, Bella wished they had been.

Charlie hadn't stopped talking. "The chain was her mother's, and something she meant to be old and borrowed, but the wolf is new and blue," he said, shrugging, obviously uncomfortable communicating all this symbolism. "I know moms usually do this stuff but you didn't do anything like this the first time and Renée couldn't be here . . ."

"It's beautiful, thank you Dad," Bella said, putting her hand back over his. "And it means a lot that you honoured Sue with that."

Charlie nodded gruffly, blinking rapidly.

Bella gave him a moment to collect himself before asking, "Would you help me put it on?"

His fingers fumbled with the small clasp, but he finally managed. "You look beautiful, honey." His hand seemed cool on her shoulder, and she raised her own hand to join his there. She wondered at the temperature briefly, chalking it up to her pregnancy, and her father's increasing age.

"And you look happy," Charlie said. "You deserve to be that."

"So do you, Dad," Bella replied.

His gaze dropped, a half-meant smile on his lips.

"You can't not . . . try," Bella pushed. She was nervously approaching the edge of this conversation, wanting, and not wanting to have it now. There was that urgency stirring in her gut. Life was short—there was no end of mundane things to see to that, let alone supernatural ones.

Charlie's voice was even. "I've been married once to the wrong person, and was too chicken to do it again with the right one. I don't expect to get . . . more than that. Not at my age. And I wouldn't want to inflict my cowardice on anyone else."

Another knock announced Rose's return. "It's time," she said, looking at Bella and Charlie apologetically.

"Right," Bella sighed.

Charlie held out his hand for Bella to stand up.

"Ready?" He asked, a husky note in his voice.

"Yes," Bella said, staring at the sadness on her father's face. If there ever was a second chance to grasp at happiness in life, today was that moment for her and her children. She could only hope that, for all his doubts, Charlie would have another opportunity someday.

\- 0 -

"And do you, Edward, take Bella to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Edward said softly, one hand holding Bella's, the other tightly gripped by Josh. Her son had refused to release custody of it when Bella had arrived.

"Do," Josh piped up. "Man do!"

"Shh!" Meredith said. "Only they're supposed to talk, Josh!"

Around them, Bella heard chuckles from several of the Cullens, along with Charlie's soft laughter. With a barely suppressed grin, the marriage commissioner continued with the vow it was her turn to repeat.

"I do," Bella said just as softly, struggling a little to push the words past the lump of emotion in her throat. She had said these very words once before, and she had meant them—but there was just something about this moment that felt so right to her, so much more like her true destiny as she gazed into the eyes of the man she would spend the rest of her life with. She did not allow her thoughts to dwell on how long that might be; she just knew that the sense of wholeness and peace she was experiencing right then, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world, was enough.

But Josh, his face furrowed in concentration, was obviously now struggling to produce the salient words he had picked up from the commissioner's ceremonial speech. "Man, Mama, keep," he said, looking at her and Edward. To Bella, he appeared slightly worried, as if an alternative was being proposed.

Edward turned and looked down at Josh. "This means we stay together," he explained gently. "We get to keep each other. We're a family."

"Family," Josh repeated. His little shoulders relaxed, as did his hand in Edward's fingers. His determined eye contact, which Bella knew cost him so much energy, slid away into its more regular wide focus, and she knew he was at ease.

Edward looked back to her, and she smiled through her tears. Edward's unique ability to understand her son—now his as well—was a blessing for which she would be forever grateful.

"I pronounce you husband and wife."

She wasn't so sure what happened around them then, because Edward kissed her, and like all the times Edward kissed her, the other parts of the world receded into the background, all her senses swamped with his scent, his touch, his—

Someone cleared their throat very loudly nearby, and Edward pulled away from her.

Bella was glad he had found the strength because she could not have. She still found herself leaning toward him, feeling a little overwhelmed as she stood beside her husband. She heard him say, "Yes, now we get to have the party and dance," to either Josh or Meredith.

And dance they did.

After having a few tastes of the treats Esme had prepared, Bella watched Alice's horrified eyebrows brush her hairline as she kicked off her clearly-expensive-but-horribly-uncomfortable shoes. With Bella's long dress hiding what he was doing, Edward lifted her up and placed her toes onto his, making it look like she was moving elegantly around the platform they'd erected in the middle of the Cullens' lawn as he waltzed her around.

As the other Cullens joined them, Emmett and Rose passed close by. "Barefoot and pregnant," Emmett said quietly, neatly evading Edward's elbow and dirty look. "Shoulda held the dancing in the kitchen."

Bella laughed, but Edward glared.

"Hey you, lighten up," Bella said, putting a hand to his cheek.

"Hmm," But his features softened considerably as he looked at her. "I just don't want to admit that he has a tiny point." he teased her.

Charlie, who was dancing with Esme, had obviously heard the exchange, because he was trying very hard to keep his chest from shaking with suppressed laughter. Bella watched him and Esme shake their heads at Emmett. They were all smiling, and it gave Bella the most beautiful hope to see her father's lips stretched with happiness rather than sorrow. It made her feel as if he'd be okay after all.

Edward brought her attention back to him by tipping his head down to kiss her, his lips soft over hers. "Now we get to have our happily ever after. " He grinned.

We do, she told herself. Yes we do.

\- 0 -

Bella was focusing on Edward's hands as he carried her, one at her ribs, the other cradling her knees. They were pleasantly cool against her perpetually flushed skin. She thought of how Josh had made everyone chuckle at the service, remarking upon Edward's temperature at the altar, his little hand in his soon-to-be father's.

"Man cold?" he'd asked Edward.

Edward had smiled down at Josh, and Charlie had too, putting Bella's hand into Edward's free one. "Hopefully not your feet," he'd commented to Edward under his breath. Edward's grin had only grown wider.

Bella had kept her smirk to herself then, but now she was full of giggles as Edward's fingers tickled her, setting her down. As she'd promised, though, she'd kept her eyes shut. "Can I open them now?"

"Yes," Edward breathed.

"Oh, wow," she gasped, as all vestiges of humour slipped into awe. "This is . . . wow."

Edward's chuckle raised gooseflesh on her neck, and while this was incredibly distracting, so was the view.

Through the wall of windows, Bella watched the sun setting, a fiery red globe sinking into the ocean just below a thick layer of cloud. Its rays illuminated the pool that ran the length and breadth of the deck, seeming to slip over the edge into the cove. Flanked with fir trees on either side, the house they had just entered existed in a narrow aisle that led to the sunset.

"It's stunning," Bella said, awed by the setting. Then she turned to face Edward.

If the view had dazzled her, it was nothing compared to him. He glowed in the sun's red light, all the copper in his hair on fire and the soft sparkle of his stony flesh on full and rare display.

"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head minutely,before slowly looking her up and down, his gaze boldly caressing every curve in her body.

She felt very, very hot, her neck prickling with perspiration.

"Warm?" he asked, his one hand still holding hers, the other gently wiping away the moisture on her neck.

"Hm-mm," she tried, clearing her throat.

"Tired? It's been a very long day for you."

Yes, it had been a long day. The wedding and small family-centred reception had been everything she'd wanted, full of joy and laughter, followed by the trip up the coast by ferry to this minor oasis. She'd laughed when he told her they'd be staying on the Sunshine Coast. "Ironic," she'd commented, "all things considered."

"Would you like to go for a swim?" Edward asked, pulling her closer, kissing the corner of her mouth.

It was hard to think when he touched her like this. She made an unintelligible sound.

He chuckled. "Is that a yes?"

"Uh-huh," she managed. He'd reached that spot at her clavicle, that spot right—ah, yes, there. "Oh!"

Edward purred out a low growl, making her moan.

When his fingers tugged at the zipper on the back of her dress, the only word Bella could manage was a mangled, "Yes."

All her other words seemed to disappear, along with their clothes.

They didn't make it into the pool.

But it felt very much like swimming, being deposited into the swan-white reaches of an enormous bed.

Edward's ability to speak remained unimpinged. "I love you so much," he began, whispering this into her mouth, slowly meandering across her body with his lips and hands while he caressed her with his words. He kissed her right arm, moving to her tingling palm. "I love the way your hand holds Meredith's, and the way you wipe away Josh's tears, or write witty remarks on papers . . . or when you run your fingers through my hair . . ."

She giggled, despite herself, thinking of all the other places on him she liked to touch with that very hand. She tried this now, luxuriating in the sounds he made.

Collecting himself, he pressed his lips to her breasts, first one and then the other. "I love how kissing these makes you writhe with pleasure." He demonstrated this now, his tongue agile over her nipple, circling slowly over and over again. "And that they will feed your baby. And the baby—I love that you want it to be our baby." He kissed the swelling of her stomach. "And the children we will raise together." His kisses were at her lips again. "I love that we are a family."

Her tears were joyful ones, and she knew, that if he could, he would be crying too.

He was inside her so quickly it made her gasp. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to his thrusting form. God, there weren't words—

His, "I love you's," were an infinite repetition, thumped out in her heart for him, and echoed back in his words, an eternity in a piece of time, tangled up in the sweetness of their joined bodies. Their skin was merely a suggested boundary between their two linked souls.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	50. To shut out the world

A/N for 2020-03-18: Folks, this early update is brought to you by my amazing and now self-isolating Beta Eeyorefan12, and me, now on indefinite school holidays. I'm just gonna say that you should be careful when you ask for an early update ;-)

As well, in case you missed it, I recently published an outtake from this story here on FF, called "The Meadow."

Cheers,

\- Erin

* * *

Bella was walking back to the bedroom from the bathroom when the contraction made her stop. With one hand on the wall, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing to match the constriction in her midsection. The tightening was a wide belt of pressure, slow and even, shifting her entire abdomen. When she opened her eyes again, a very worried pair of golden ones floated inches from her face. She started back a bit. Edward wasn't touching her, but he might as well have been for his proximity.

The next contraction was stronger, and she actually moaned into this one, a small tendril of pain sliding out from the centre of her lower back.

"Bella?" Edward asked.

"Mph," she answered, eyes closed again, focusing on breathing. The pain receded, and her body relaxed.

When she looked at Edward again, he was practically vibrating with worry.

"Those were almost a minute long and a minute apart."

Bella nodded, rubbing her back. "Tell me about it. I'd forgotten how strong they could feel." Her practise-contractions had been much the same with Meredith and Joshua. Recalling her and Matt's own panicked response to those first labour-like moments, she reached out a consoling hand to Edward. "Really, this is just Braxton-Hicks. Nothing to get excited over."

'Excited' in no way described Edward. His face was taut with anxious worry, and she swore she could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

If it had been Matt in Edward's place, he would have been mildly concerned. But this was Edward, and she imagined that, for all his medical knowledge, even a textbook pregnancy for herself would be cause for him to fret. With her earlier preeclampsia scare, she knew this pushed his anxiety to stratospheric realms. Her midwife had assured her that she was fine to continue working, so long as her blood pressure remained stable and low. It had, and Bella felt well, though tired. But that was typical for her—for any pregnant woman in her third trimester.

"Pregnancy is normal," she reminded him. "Not something to worry about."

He tried to smile at her, but his jaw remained stubbornly tight.

"I'm just going to go get ready for work," Bella mumbled, attempting her own reassuring smile.

His hands were suddenly coiled around her wrists, not exactly restraining her, but pulling her closer. "Can we talk about that for a moment?"

Her guard rallied. She knew what was coming next. He was going to try to get her to start her maternity leave early. They'd had the conversation several times, always a gentle nudge from Edward, but even as far as they'd come together, the thought still made her defensive. The words 'Absolutely not,' were in the forefront of her mind, but she searched for a gentler way to deflect his worry—

"May I drive you to work today?" he asked sweetly, transforming his grip so that he was holding one hand, his other bringing her fingers to his lips.

She let her breath out, relieved. The sweetness of his own exhalation washed over her face as he kissed her forehead, making it difficult to remember what she was so guarded about. Then he kissed her cheek, and the corner of her lips—

"Please?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, slightly dazed. As he moved back a little, and her thoughts became her own again, she shook her head slightly.

"Dizzy?" he asked, his voice full of concern again.

"Only because of you," she said, blushing with embarrassment. She wasn't thinking clearly. Her emotional reactions coloured everything at this point in her pregnancies. With her first, that had been terrifying, thinking she was slipping back into the madness that had claimed her before. The second pregnancy was easier, having the first to know she wasn't going insane, but even so, it was almost second-nature to let those fears have purchase in her mind.

You're just hormonal, she told herself, knowing full well that it wasn't hormones that were overwhelming her but the man before her—looking a bit too proud of himself. And it didn't bother her at all.

Josh's feet thumped loudly onto the floor from his bed. He appeared in the hall, skipping towards them. His words, "I need waffles!" were loud, and directed to Edward and Bella's feet.

"Morning, Honey," Bella said, rubbing his head as he came close to snuggle up against them both.

"Need waffles," he repeated to Bella's waist.

"Okay. Let's go get you some waffles," Edward said, his eyes still on Bella.

"I'm going to get dressed for work."

Edward glanced back at her only briefly as he walked Joshua down the stairs.

Back in the master bedroom, Bella sat down on the bed, sipping some water, waiting to see if the contractions really were done with their workout. It also gave her time to think, rather than just react.

She was trying to reason with herself, thinking about whether it really would be so bad to take off work a bit earlier than she'd planned. It would let her feel like a newlywed for a little longer, and would give her and Edward more time together with Josh and Mer before their newest sibling arrived.

Then again, she was really enjoying her job since she was only working part-time-a luxury for a teacher. She had a whole new and exciting unit planned for one of the senior courses, and a group of students who were up for the challenge. Taking leave now would feel like it had before, when her health had forced her to leave too soon and not to see things through with the kids.

Right now, her health was good—knock on wood, she told herself. Even though her energy was flagging, it was no real impediment so far. And with Edward being such an incredibly supportive partner, one who willingly took on the daytime parenting duties while she did something she loved, well...maybe a little more time at work was a gift she should just accept graciously. Glancing at the clock, Bella realized she needed to set her ruminations aside for the time being, and get herself ready for the day.

The workday passed in its usual busy but happy blur. By the time the last school bell had rung, Bella was glad to sink into her chair and put her feet up on the desk, sighing as her blood, aided by gravity, made its way back to her heart.

"Okay, varicose veins suck," she muttered to herself.

Her phone, abruptly buzzing in the desk, broke the silence of the room and made her start, knocking a stack of papers onto the floor in her rush to get it.

The number was from Forks. "'Lo?" she managed, catching the tail end of the last ring before it would go to voicemail.

"Hi, Bella?"

"Yes," Bella said, recognizing the voice, but not quite able to retrieve the name.

"It's Mark Barclay. I work with your dad—"

"Oh?" Her stomach seemed to move sideways. Don't be stupid, she told herself. It's probably nothing.

"I've been trying to reach him. We've had someone call in sick, and I was wondering if he could cover a shift before his started. He isn't answering at home, and I wondered if you maybe had another way to reach him?" Mark asked.

Not exactly nothing, then.

"No," she said, almost whispering.

"Okay," Mark sighed. "I'm sure I'll catch up with him somewhere else. I can always call in one of our reserves if we get really desperate."

He spoke these last words almost to himself, but Bella's innards felt like they were liquefying.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to bother you—"

Too late for that.

"He's just been such a homebody lately. I wasn't sure where to reach him when he wasn't at home . . ."

Mark kept talking, and Bella listened—or tried to. His voice had become sounds—some of which she understood, and some of which was just noise—noise that she knew she needed to listen to in order not to appear rude, or odd. She was a Cullen now, and she could not appear odd—could not draw unwanted attention their way.

"Thank you for letting me know. I'll make some calls and see what I can find," she promised Mark. "You'll let me know if he phones you?"

"For sure. Sorry to trouble you, Bella."

Bella dialed Charlie's cell phone, more frustrated than surprised when it went to voicemail. She knew Mark would have been trying to call him there too, but it was instinctive for her to try.

It was Alice's number that made her phone jump in her hand next.

"Alice?" she croaked into the speaker.

"Bella, does anyone on the reservation harbour bad feelings towards your father?" Alice asked.

"What?" Bella asked, thrown by the question.

"Do they?"

"I—" she stopped to think. Did they? She mentally scanned the reservation's known occupants, considering Sam and Emily, the few Clearwater cousins she knew, Billy Black. Her mind flickered to Seth and his wife, but they didn't live on the reservation, and neither did Leah. "No, I can't think of anyone who does. Why?" There was hope bubbling in her midsection. Her mind had gone to the worst possibilities with Mark's call. The man clearly didn't think anything untoward had happened, but with all that Bella had seen, it was so easy to overreact when perhaps it wasn't called for.

"When I talked to him the other day, he mentioned talking to Billy Black and having plans to go see him," Alice explained. "That's what he must have done because he disappeared this morning. Just now I saw you going to phone Edward about—"

"Yes, I was," Bella said, thinking that she really should call him . . . but then again, she _was_ overreacting and worrying. Maybe her dad's phone had died or . . . he had probably gotten caught up and lost track of the time. He had been grieving after all. If he was seeing Billy, that was good. Their friendship had dissolved after Jacob's death, despite Charlie's best efforts to keep it alive. If they were rekindling it, it was a hopeful sign.

Calling Edward would be good, too.

"Should we go have a look in Forks? Just to make sure he's okay?"

"Yes, please." Bella told her. "Call me when you find him, okay?"

"Of course," Alice said.

They made their farewells, and Bella cleaned up the papers she'd accidently knocked to the floor.

"Don't overreact," she told herself. Looking at the clock, she realized she only had a few more minutes before Edward came to pick her up. They could talk in the car. This was probably nothing. Trying to distract herself, she put her mind to the next day's lessons and the current day's marking.

While Edward had agreed with her that she shouldn't be overly concerned, by dinner time, there was still no word from Charlie or anyone else about his whereabouts. Alice and Jasper had looked in and around Forks with Rose and Emmett, and they'd come up empty. But if he was still on the reservation, it would make sense that Alice still had no visions of him. When Bella had called Billy, he'd only been able to confirm that Charlie had been there and left much earlier and suggested that Charlie might have stopped to fish for a bit on his way back to town.

Bella kept telling herself that he was fine and that she was worrying for nothing. After all, his regular shift didn't start for a few more hours. At this point, he was just out of touch.

That strategy had worked until after dinner. At seven, she and Edward were putting the children to bed. By eight, the children were asleep and she was pacing. Unable to help herself, she called the station to see if Charlie had arrived for his eight o'clock shift, but Mark, now clearly concerned, told her that he had not.

Edward watched her carefully from across the room but he had long since stopped trying to reassure her with words.

In fact, he had no words at all-unless they were the ones silent to her when his phone buzzed once or twice and he glanced at the screen, sliding his fingers over it briefly before slipping it back into his pocket..

With her phone still in her hand after hanging up with the station, she dialed Sam Uley.

"Sam, it's Bella Cullen." She bit her lip, trying to smother her anxiety in that one, tiny, focused pain.

Sam took a moment to reply. "Cullen. Right. What do you want?" There was no encouragement in his tone.

"My dad's missing. He went to go visit Billy Black. Billy said he left just after one o'clock to head back to town, and he hasn't shown up at work or home yet."

"Did you let the police know?" Sam asked. She didn't hear any concern in his voice.

"Yes, they know," Bella replied, struggling to keep the impatience out of her words. "The _police_ are the ones who called me."

Another pause. "So what do you want me to do about it?" he finally asked.

"Would you please . . . look for my dad?" she asked, hoping there would be a shred of empathy there. She knew they were already indebted for the wolves' assistance this past summer and the Cullens had promised to remove themselves from Pack territory, but this was her father. This was Charlie. Surely there would be some goodwill on his behalf?

Silence.

"You want me to leave my kids and go look for your dad?" His voice was incredulous.

"Please."

Edward hadn't asked who she was calling, but had moved closer to her as she stood in the kitchen. His frown had grown darker and deeper as he listened to both sides of the conversation.

The receiver buzzed with Sam's huffed out breath. "You just don't stop asking, do you?"

Angry, frustrated tears slipped down Bella's cheeks.

She wanted to swear. A lot. About hormones, and worries, and werewolves—

Edward held out his hand for the phone.

Knowing her own pleas had failed, she saw no point in persisting, and gave it to her husband.

"Sam," Edward said, voice low and even.

Bella didn't catch the reply, and Edward's face betrayed nothing, impassive and cool.

"We don't want to impose, but we're asking your permission to search the area ourselves . . . No, I don't expect you would, but I will remind you that you have a treaty because we chose to offer one, not because we needed to."

Bella's eyes widened, hearing the threat.

There was a long period of silence before Edward began speaking again. "We'll need an hour, at most. . . . You'll call your packmates? . . . Thank you. We appreciate your cooperation." He hung up.

"Did you just—"

"Threaten him? Yes." He put the phone down, using his hands to cradle her back. "He's said we can go look for your father."

She knew that if there was comfort or hope to offer, it was here that he'd offer it.

But there was none.

Something very bad had happened to her father. And now they needed to wait and see just what it was.

She and Edward now settled in the living room, Bella trying to distract herself with a book her class would be reading over the next weeks. The words had passed by her eyes and her mind, floating off into the ether of her worry, as she contemplated the many bad things that could have happened to Charlie. He had been so sad lately. Could he have . . . did he . . .? No, she wouldn't allow that train of thought to continue. Charlie would never do anything to hurt her or the children like that. It was something else. He had a bad habit of letting his phone run out of charge. Maybe he had just gone for a walk on the reservation and Alice couldn't see him there because wolves were close by. Or maybe his car had broken down. An accident? Could he be too hurt to call for help?

When Edward's phone buzzed, she didn't even look up. She was too afraid.

Edward lifted his phone to his ear, standing and turning his back to her as he looked out the window. The glass reflected his face back to Bella, lines of worry and then pain telling her more than she wanted to know.

When she heard the quiet beep as he ended the call, she couldn't even look at him and found herself unable to voice her worst fear. Instead, she whispered, almost to herself, "Did they find him?"

Edward didn't answer her right away. After several long moments had passed, Bella forced herself to look up just in time to see just a flash of something in his expression before his features smoothed into practiced impassivity. But she knew what she had seen, and she knew what it meant. She had seen Edward do this once before, although it had been long ago and in the woods behind her house. What he had said to her then had devastated her so thoroughly that it had been a long time before she could face life again. Now, he was about to tell her something he obviously knew would destroy her all over again, and she knew he was steeling himself for the revelation.

She was already shaking her head when she heard his quiet voice. "They have . . . found his car. Charlie isn't there."

She looked down at her lap, instinctively resting a protective hand over her unborn child and silently begging Edward to continue without making her try to speak. There was more. She knew there was more. She felt him move closer to her and in her periphery, she saw one of his hands reach toward her before he let it drop again. She heard him take in a breath before he spoke again.

"Emmett and Jasper caught a scent. Bella, I . . ." Edward's voice faltered for a moment but still she couldn't look at him. She could barely breathe. She waited, but even as she did, she knew what his next words would be and she closed her eyes, wishing she could just shut out everything in existence at this moment.

"Victoria may not be dead."

Her world went black.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	51. Comfortably Numb

A/N for 2020-03-29: Hoping you are all doing okay, if you are self-isolating, as my entire country is (or should be). I will try to get the next chapter up within the week.

As always, many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12, who makes this story a million times better.

~ Erin

* * *

With the abrupt start of maternity leave, or so the school district believed, Bella didn't even return to work to collect her personal things. Nor did she leave the house to visit her midwife, walk Meredith to school, visit her psychiatrist, or engage with the world in a way that might endanger the people within it. She was, for all intents and purposes, incarcerated in her family's home, as if it even mattered.

She had readily agreed when Edward told her he was going to pull Meredith from school and move all of them into the Cullen house, reasoning that it would be safer for the family to stay physically together. Edward had also been able to assure her that Meredith had taken the news well when she learned that she'd be living in the same house as her favorite aunt. Bella and Edward had chosen not to share the news of Charlie's disappearance with the children, since they had no reassurances to offer them. It would be better to wait until they knew something before telling them their Grandpa was gone—although that really seemed a formality now.

Bella's internal confinement was even more effective than her physical one. She shrank into herself, interacting with her family when required, faintly smiling when it seemed suitable, and eating as her body, or Edward, demanded. She passively allowed Edward and Carlisle to monitor both her blood pressure and her pregnancy. The near-physical numbness was a familiar friend, as she struggled to play the part the outside world expected of her, accepting messages of encouragement and condolence alike from those who had known or worked with Charlie. They would never stop working on the case, she was repeatedly assured by his fellow officers, though enough time went by that even the most determined of them stopped calling or giving updates.

She knew her vampire family was looking for her father. She had listened as Alice had apologized profusely to her and to everyone else in the house, repeatedly, while they all insisted that it couldn't be Alice's fault, that somehow Victoria had found a way to fool even her visions. Bella was also aware that they had humbled themselves, with Carlisle asking the wolves for their assistance again, but Sam had been unrelenting. He'd been told that they'd ended Victoria after the battle, and he didn't want any more empty promises, requests, threats or supposedly 'friendly' vampires in his backyard. Although he'd allowed them to collect Charlie's car and any clues they could find, that was the end of his cooperation with the Cullens.

By early November, Bella had missed two rescheduled appointments with her psychiatrist, and it took all of Edward's charm and several of Jasper's fine forgeries to deflect the interest of the government social worker who wanted to conduct a home visit; It was supposed to be the final one now that her marital status had changed and she was supposedly stable and healthy. But even Edward had agreed that it might be too difficult to keep up the facade right now.

The search for Victoria continued. Even in the fog of grief in which she spent much of her time, Bella could feel and see the activity around her. It seemed different from the months before the battle when, she suspected, much more was hidden from her. There were fewer secrets now. Although discussions of strategy among the family members were still happening where she and the children were unaware of them, the frequent absences by various Cullens, Edward among them this time, were more obvious. They would go out in groups of three at least, coming back hours later wearing rain-drenched clothes and matching expressions of defeat. Carlisle's office had acquired a few extra computer screens where, Bella learned, intensive traces and scans of unusual activity were being conducted, mainly by Esme and Rose, in between taking turns helping with the children.

Thinking that at least online research was something she could do to help, Bella had made an attempt early on but she had to stop when reading just the headlines had eradicated her appetite for any news at all. There were many people missing in strange circumstances. In one bizarre occurrence, no fewer than seventeen dismembered feet had washed up on the shorelines around Vancouver and Seattle. Perhaps Victoria and her helpers were hungry, and taunting them? No, she didn't need more fuel for her grief and fear. Besides, it hadn't taken long to see a pattern between clicking on a news site and Edward suddenly appearing with some reason to interrupt her. Sometimes she could even hear his phone chirp with a text from Alice before he did it.

It was during one of these times that Bella had allowed her poisonous thoughts to wander further than they usually did as she pondered the losses that had already piled up and considered who else would be lost because of her. Were Meredith and Josh next? Was it just a matter of time? Could she stop this? If she went to Victoria, if she offered herself up—

Edward's phone rang nearby.

She let him draw her into his arms and felt her heartbeat slowing, knowing without hearing his near-silent conversation to whom he was speaking.

"I know," she breathed when he hung up.

His arms felt very, very careful around her. She didn't dare meet his eyes, keeping her face pointed away.

"She's trying to—"

"I know," she said again, more forcefully.

"She wants to upset you—"

"I know." She pulled away, turning and making her slow, awkward way towards the stairs, and to their bedroom. Once there, she crawled into the bed, trying to find a way to lie down that didn't make her body ache somewhere. Her stockings chafed at her sore legs, her back throbbed, and her throat burned with the acid that refused to stay put in her stomach. And she wished it was a million times more miserable, because then she'd be so self-absorbed that she wouldn't even care about her dad.

But her dad was gone.

"And it's my fault!" She pounded a frustrated fist into her pillow.

Even with her thoughts warped by rage and grief, she could sense Edward's presence at the door.

"Come in," she mumbled into the comforter. She didn't want company, but knew it was cruel to keep him out. In the last few days—or was it weeks?—they were spending so little time alone together. When Edward went out with his family, he usually scheduled it so that he could participate in putting the children to bed first and be gone while they were asleep, to keep things as normal for them as possible. Of course, this meant that Bella was sleeping alone more than either of them would have liked.

The mattress depressed slightly under his weight, though she still didn't turn to face him.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You have every right to be furious with me."

She rolled over slowly, holding her stomach as she did so, and looked up at him. She studied his face for a moment, trying to ascertain the emotion there. Worry, likely. There were so many things he had to worry about—so many things she wasn't supposed to know and from which he was protecting her. Maybe there was some pity as well. And guilt? Yes, that was clearly evident in the lines of his usually smooth face and she didn't like seeing it there. "I'm not angry with you, Edward. Not at all. This is on her."

While he may have disagreed, he didn't argue with her and for that she was grateful.

Besides, there was only one person she could blame and it was herself. She had been the one to say they should go home for the summer. If they'd stayed put, maybe Sue and Charlie—

She could barely think their names without wincing.

Edward's hand had come to rest on her back, his face crinkled in concern. "But you can't think what Alice says you were thinking. Your father would never accept that kind of bargain, ever, and you know it."

No, her father wouldn't want that.

"Victoria was sloppy when she took him. She and at least one helper left scents for us to follow. All it will take is another mistake, and we will find her . . ."

Bella stopped listening, sinking again into the familiar absence of feeling. She knew they hadn't found anything beyond those scents, and this was as close to a lie as Edward had used with her since his return. When all clues inevitably ended in the wash of water, they might as well not have been there at all. And another 'mistake', as Edward put it, most likely meant another murder on Bella's conscience.

She thought about Edward's bending of the truth. If he was desperate enough to come so close to a lie, it meant that there really was no hope.

As if he knew she had checked herself out of the conversation, Edward breathed a small sigh. "Can I get you anything from the kitchen?"

"No, I'm fine." She tried to smile. "Thank you," she added, remembering her manners.

Remembering she loved this man.

Edward's tiny attempt to return the smile looked as disingenuous as hers had felt. "I love you," he said, a gentle hand squeezing hers, then stroking once over her belly before he rose and walked towards the door.

She knew he did, but there was no feeling inside her to go with the knowledge.

"I love you, too," she answered woodenly, and then closed her eyes in relief when he left the room and closed the door behind him.

\- 0 -

Bella was alone when she woke up from her impromptu nap. She felt the faint stirrings of hunger and got up carefully to walk downstairs, catching a quick glimpse through the windows of Alice, Meredith and Josh exploring the yard outside. She thought briefly of joining them but they looked so carefree and happy that she didn't want to inflict her malaise on them. Just the day before, she had overheard Edward assuring Meredith that her mommy wasn't mad at her but was only being 'grumpy' because she was just tired. She knew it wasn't fair to them but her grief was so overwhelming that she could do no better than she was.

As she neared the kitchen, she could hear a few voices in conversation, Rose's the most prominent. While most of the Cullens were mute on the subject of the recent disappearances, Rosalie was not, and Bella heard a fragment of telling speech as she entered the dining area and saw all the Cullen siblings there. " . . . and it's a level of astronomical denial to think the Volturi _won't_ notice, Jasper," Rose was saying.

Bella watched Edward glare at his sister. Rose's lips twisted in response, but she held her ground, as did Jasper. His eyes were at least downcast, until she came into the room. Then, he and the others nodded in greeting and Edward walked over to place a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm going to explore the fridge," she told him as she moved past, hoping to make it clear that she didn't want to be coddled at the moment. She knew she'd been successful when he didn't follow her.

Knowing they wouldn't discuss anymore of this in front of her, Bella opened the door of the refrigerator, pretending to study the contents before pulling out a bottle of water and an apple. Their conversation remained audible, but stripped enough of details so as to be cryptic, at least to Bella. When she turned to leave the room, Edward followed her, offering a steadying hand while she mounted the shallow stairs out of the sunken living room and turned to face him.

"I'm fine," she told him. "I think I'll try to work on my quilt." She held up her food as if to assure him that she was taking care of herself and was rewarded with his soft smile.

"I'll leave you to it," he said encouragingly, but she could practically feel his eyes on her as she walked away.

Bella shuffled towards Esme's study, where she knew she'd find her abandoned quilting project. She had no intention of finishing it, but it gave her a plausible reason to escape the company of her larger family and the obtuse commentary they always engaged in when she was present.

Sitting down at Esme's worktable, Bella startled slightly when she was greeted by the strange and tinny version of her sister-in-law's vice. Her eyebrows puckered, as she tried to puzzle out the source of the sound.

Ah. Her eyes lit on the heating vent above Esme's worktable. The subtle whoosh from the furnace had shut off between its heat cycles. In the interim, the normally hushed voices of her in-laws were amplified by the ducting that ran the length of the hall.

"Kate said Grant's doing well," Rose said.

She couldn't make out the mumbled sounds in response, but they seemed to be positive.

Bella's shoulders relaxed a little. What had happened to Grant was in no way good, but this at least was a tiny spark of reprieve in the disaster Victoria had made. Emmett and Rose had brought a message from him when they'd returned from Alaska, and while it hadn't really offered forgiveness, he had at least expressed gratitude that his existence had been spared because of her. She smiled at the memory, her misdirected attention missing the first few words of Jasper's next utterance.

" . . . like the others, lost in the water," Jasper said.

Bella became very still, all her focus pointed at the heating duct.

"And the remains?" Edward said.

Silence.

She heard a loud thump, as if someone had hit something in frustration. Then Edward's voice again, "When I went, I couldn't hear anything from anyone who'd been nearby."

Damn. She hated it when he answered their thought questions. Especially the next one. He sounded miserable as he spoke.

"Much as you've seen her. Charlie's disappearance has been . . . difficult."

"Difficult?" Rose asked, the pitch rising. "It's going to be a nightmare if we don't start making progress on both fronts." There was a frustrated huff at the end of her sentence.

"Don't," Edward growled.

"Why? Are you seriously going to stick your head in the sand about what the Volturi are going to do about the attention Victoria's antics are attracting in the press? Alice and Jasper have to leave soon; how do you think Aro will react when he finds out that we lied to them, that Bella isn't insane and—right, that little detail about how you can _read minds_?"

Edward's "Quiet!" was anything but.

Then Jasper's voice again. "Edward? When _you _went?"

Silence.

"Alice didn't—"

"I asked her not to." Edward's voice was so quiet Bella had to strain to hear it.

Now Emmett spoke up. "Bro, you went without one of us?"

"I had to." Edward told him. "I had to wait until the children—"

"Dammit, Edward!" Jasper snapped. "You said you were meeting Emmett and Rose! We agreed that no one goes out alone. _No_ one."

"We needed to know, and I'm the only one who can hear what they saw!" There was a desperate tone in Edward's voice, and it tore at her heart while his brothers and Rose piled on, their words a sudden caucauphony of fury as they berated him. Rose's voice rose above the others'.

Rose made a frustrated sound. "This isn't just about y—"

"Don't you say it, Rose." Edward cut her off. "Don't you _dare_ say it isn't about me. It's all on me. _All_ of it. You see what it's doing to her. I have to fix this!"

"How?" Rose demanded, her tone heavy with suspicion. "By offering _yourself_ to Victoria? What do you think _that_ would do to Bella?"

"I wasn't . . . I didn't . . ." Edward's words ended in a strangled sob and Bella felt tears welling up in her eyes as she put a hand over her mouth to stifle her own. She had seen Edward sorrowful, contrite, fearful and even desperate but none of it came close to the agony pouring from him now and it was clawing at her heart. How had he hidden this from her? He had put himself in so much danger. Victoria could have . . . Bella couldn't finish the thought. _Nothing _could happen to Edward. Edward _had _to be here with them—especially for the children. Why had she not seen that his grief was overwhelming him? She needed to go to him . . .

"Edward."

With a rush of pure relief, Bella recognized Carlisle's voice. She hadn't realized he was home, but he clearly had heard the argument.

There was a long silence before Carlisle spoke again, his tone steady and firm. "I understand your concerns, all of you, but this is not constructive. We'll reconvene later."

There were various unintelligible mumbles before everything was silent again. Bella strained to listen, wanting to go to Edward but knowing that her proudly stoic husband might need some time to regroup. Then she heard Carlisle's voice again, much gentler than before.

"Edward. Son."

"I know." Edward said quietly.

Another short silence.

"It wasn't my intention, Carlisle. But . . ." He stopped short and Bella knew Carlisle was still speaking silently.

"Yes," Edward said, responding to Carlisle. "And I won't. I promised her."

Just as Bella wondered what he had promised, she was startled when Esme appeared in the doorway. Bella's face flushed furiously as Esme glanced up at the heating vent which had served as the source of Bella's secret surveillance, but there was only kindness in her expression.

"Edward and Carlisle are going out to hunt for a bit. Would you like to help me decide on dinner for the children?"

Embarrassed, Bella nodded and began the slow process of pushing herself to her feet. Esme watched her closely and then spoke again.

"It's been a difficult day, hasn't it?"

Bella nodded again, realizing she probably still had tear tracks on her cheeks.

Esme surprised her when she reached out and drew her into a gentle hug, and Bella was even more surprised when she took comfort from it. It felt like it had been weeks since another person's touch had been so soothing.

"His father will help him." Esme whispered into her ear. "We will get you through this . . . both of you."

Bella nodded into Esme's shoulder. "Thank you."

Esme pulled back and smiled a bit sadly. "Now, come with me and I'll make you a cup of tea while we plan dinner."

Bella followed her to the kitchen, her thoughts swirling in her head but clearer than they had been for several days. Yes, they needed to get through this. They needed to find out what had happened to her father, even if the news was as she feared, but she could not bear to lose anyone else to Victoria. And that included the man who was stubborn enough to martyr himself on her behalf, even if unintentionally. She couldn't forget what she had learned today. There was no mystery as to what the Volturi would do to her family, whether human, vampire, adult, or child, once Alice and Jasper went to them. Their fate would ultimately be the same, unless something happened to drastically change it. She needed strength to believe that Edward and the rest of her family could come up with a solution. She needed her wits about her to deal with whatever was to come. Her husband needed her to be more of a partner and less of a liability. An idea slowly began to pierce the fog in her head.

\- 0 -

When Bella woke the next morning, a set of chilly fingers were lodged in her own. The unwelcome thought that they felt like death slithered over her conscience, and she shivered slightly.

"Morning," Edward whispered.

"Morning," she replied. He was back. After Edward and Carlisle had left to hunt, they had called later in the evening to say they would be gone the rest of the night. "I'm glad you're home. Any news?"

He shook his head but didn't speak. He also wasn't making eye contact. For a moment, she wondered if Carlisle or Esme had told him what she had overheard the day before, then realized he would know from their thoughts anyway. She waited to see if he would bring it up, but he remained silent. When he finally did meet her gaze, his eyes searched hers. There was a nervous energy in his fingers and then his words.

"I just spoke with Alice," he finally said.

_Had she seen something? _"Oh?" Bella asked.

His voice was gentle, but the words blunt. "She was concerned when your future abruptly disappeared."

Ah, for once Bella was prepared to address this concern. She turned to face him, feeling him chill her other hand with his touch. "I was going to invite Leah to come visit. It's nice to know that she's going to accept."

Edward's hand softened around hers.

Bella decided to continue. Despite the emotional fog in which she'd existed lately, and although she still didn't like talking about this part of the past, it was necessary for him to understand. "Before, when you left, Jacob took me to one of the Quileute elders, asking for me to be smudged. It's a kind of a—"

"Cleansing. Yes, I know." Edward said, nodding, smiling a little. Then the smile faltered. "I can well imagine why Jacob thought you would need it."

Bella chewed on her lip before releasing it. Even with her recent emotional numbness, and especially after yesterday, Edward's hurts always affected her.

"Yes," she said. "It, um . . . seemed to help then. I wondered if it might now."

"Then you should ask her to come," Edward said.

Her own shoulders relaxed a little.

"You thought I would object?" he asked.

Now it was her turn to smile uncertainly. "I wasn't sure," she mumbled.

"If there is anything you think might help, I want that for you," he said, squeezing her fingers in emphasis. He moved to brush her hair away from her forehead. "Anything you need," he said firmly.

Edward was clearly not going to address the elephant in the room, so Bella had to gather the strength to do it. Since yesterday, the realization that she and her children could lose him—to the Volturi, to Victoria—had become a steady litany of fearful possibilities in her head. "What I need . . . Is to know that you are with me. I need to know that you are always here for me and for our children."

He nodded solemnly, his gaze still fixed on hers. "I am."

Bella swallowed hard. "But you—"

He didn't make her say it out loud. "Bella," he interrupted. "I made a mistake in a moment of weakness. It won't happen again. I promised you I would never leave you again and," he squeezed her hand for emphasis, his eyes searching hers, "I will keep my promise."

She glanced down at their linked hands and then looked up again at the man she knew she loved so fiercely. "Okay," she said softly. "Because Mer and Josh need—"

His voice was strong and firm as he interrupted her to repeat himself. "I will keep my promise, to _all _of you."

"No matter what?" she pressed. The promise, in this moment, seemed monumental to her, as if she was securing something she couldn't name.

She saw the conviction in his eyes and heard it in his voice.

"No matter what."

\- 0 -

Sitting on the bed, Bella nervously fingered the comforter edge, pulling at the stray thread poking out from the seam, fraying it into several pieces. She remembered coiling the plastic cord of her father's kitchen phone around her fingers in a similar state of nerves when she would talk to Jake. Now she waited for the purring ring on the other end of the line to be answered.

"Hello?"

Bella sucked in a nervous breath. "Leah, it's—"

"Bella?"

"Yeah, Bella Cu—"

"I know who you are, girl. What do you need?" Her voice sounded sandy and rough, but soothing, too.

After Sam's surliness, the question made Bella's chest tighten with emotion. "I need your help," she managed.

Leah chuckled, and then spoke gently. "Well, I figured it wasn't an invite for dinner. What kind of help?"

"Will you come and smudge me?" she asked.

"Yes."

She would? Just like that?

A moment of silence stretched between them.

"What, changed your mind? Or were you expecting a no?" Leah asked.

"No, I mean, thank you—"

"Just say when you need me," Leah said.

The conversation moved to practicalities, and when Bella hung up, she kept the phone pressed against her chest like a talisman. There was a small measure of relief, and the knowledge that she had some sort of control with which to make decisions.

\- 0 -

Leah had agreed to come almost immediately, claiming that her job owed her both sick leave and vacation time. With Edward having insisted on paying for her to fly, her arrival was set for just two soggy days after Bella's phone call. She called when she had her rental car and was a half-hour from the house, so Bella decided to wait for her in the living room.

Both of the kids were already there when Bella and Edward wandered in together. Esme and Josh were looking at a nature book while she named the flowers he pointed to and Meredith, as usual, was working diligently on her 'portfolio' of fashion designs. When she spotted Edward, Mer clenched her jaw shut and glared at him. He'd made her clean up a mess in her room that she'd been supposed to address the night before, and she was still actively resenting him for it.

"Carlisle! Edward! Alice!" Emmett suddenly burst in from outside. The others were there in an instant and, before Emmett could speak again, Edward had obviously plucked what he was about to say out of his head.

"Jasper and Emmett found a scent trail! Jasper stayed . . . " Edward stopped suddenly, realizing he'd forgotten the children were in the room. He made a glance their way, but Josh was still deeply engrossed in his book and Meredith was now patently ignoring him.

"Let's go," Carlisle murmured.

Edward turned toward Bella and swept a gentle finger across her cheek before brushing it with a kiss. He looked conflicted at the thought of leaving, but they hadn't had a breakthrough in a while and she knew what he needed from her.

Her heart was racing but she gave him a quick nod. "Go," She whispered. He followed quickly after his family members. Bella stared after them for a few moments. Should she dare to hope? Would this be the time? Would they find . . . anything?

Esme watched her as she finally settled herself on the other end of the couch. She gave Bella an encouraging smile before she got up from her spot and held out her hands to the children.

"I think I smell something delicious in the kitchen. Do you think Rose is baking something for later? Shall we go see?" Her voice trailed off as two enthusiastic sleuths headed with her to the kitchen.

Bella's phone dinged in her hand with a new email. Wondering why Leah was emailing instead of texting, it took her a few moments to realize that the message was not from Leah at all. It took her only another moment to realize who it _was _from . . . and what she was looking at. Or whom.

She choked out a silent sob, hand to her mouth, her vision warped by sudden tears. The image of Charlie's still-living form, body roughly constrained by rope, burned itself instantly into her mind, as did the expression of helpless fury on his face as he glared into the lens.

"He's alive," she breathed out. He _was _alive, at least he was when the picture had been taken. But there was no way to know for sure, and no way to secure it, in any case.

If her heart had been racing before, now it was in danger of flying out of her chest. For perhaps the first time, she truly understood the meaning of the phrase frozen in fear. She could not move, she could not make a sound, her own thoughts were silent to her. She could barely register the words under the photo, staring at the confusing letters until they finally coalesced into a cohesive sentence.

"When the cats are away, it's time to play. V"

Not only was Victoria not dead but, she was here. And she was probably not alone. But, somehow she knew Bella nearly was. Edward! Had Victoria laid a false trail for the Cullens? Were they running to an ambush?

Just then, as if to convince Bella that all of her hard-won sanity was nothing but illusion, her phone pinged again, this time with a text message containing a second image. Glancing up to see that she was still alone in the room, Bella returned her eyes to the screen and forced them to make sense of what she saw there, both the vision and the words.

Beneath the image of a terrified Chelsea, curled up in a self-protective posture on a forest floor somewhere, was the caption "Added incentive."

And with that, something within her gave way at last. A switch had been flipped. Suddenly, the path forward was only too clearly laid out for her.

Before he had left her all those years ago, Edward had told Bella many times that his very presence in her life was a danger to her. She remembered the way his forehead had wrinkled as he'd leaned in close and breathed, "Your number was up the minute you met me." In their years apart, she'd imagined him regretting saying that, along with all the other things that expressed the same sentiment, at least, she had when she hadn't thought herself insane.

But he had been right all along. Her number really had been up the minute she'd met him. She'd been cheating death with every breath she had drawn since then. And now death was here, its claws reaching and slicing at her, but snatching all the people she cared for instead and she'd had enough. It had to end now.

A distant memory surfaced in her mind. It was of her and Edward, in the kitchen of this very house only a few months before, with him trying to explain his leaving all those years ago. She had scoffed at him, insisting that he didn't know what love was. But it was the question he had asked her in response that came to her now: _If you knew your absence would protect your children, or anyone you love, more than your presence, would you leave them?_

Bella drew in a shaky breath, acknowledging not only what he had asked, but what her response had been then—and what it would be now. She heard chatter between the children and Esme and Rose from the kitchen and took comfort from it. No matter what happened now, especially to her, her children would be safe and cared for. They had family who loved them and they would have Edward, who would keep his promise to her and watch over and protect them for the rest of their natural lives. She even dared to hope that they might have Charlie. Was it possible?

The doorbell rang. Leah! She hadn't even considered that she was about to arrive but now she wondered if that was why Alice hadn't seen this and come running. But Alice hadn't seen a lot, lately, so she wasn't even surprised that Edward had not called her.

Rosalie swiftly passed her on the way to the front door and Bella took a few moments to swallow down her fear and panic and to make an attempt to smooth her features before anyone looked her way.

While it would have been easy to think that Rose was only sparing Bella a trip to the door, she knew better. All of Rose's protective instincts bristled under her clothes as she greeted Leah. Their enmity was cellular.

"Hi," Leah said, visibly fighting to keep her nose from wrinkling. Her muscles were as taut as Rose's.

"Hi, Leah," Bella called, hoisting herself up from the couch. "Thank you for coming."

Leah nodded, not stepping inside, despite Rose moving back from the door to let her enter.

"Coming in?" she asked.

"Um, no thanks," Leah said, eyeing her warily. "I'll wait on the porch."

"Bella isn't leaving here," Rose said firmly.

"I'm not." Bella agreed. She had not imagined this complication but she thought she knew a way around it. "But it's safe if we just walk around the grounds, right?"

Rose looked dubious but Bella had told them all why Leah was coming so she pressed her case. "Leah has to burn some things, and she can't do that in the house." She forced her breathing to continue in a slow even pattern, not quite meeting Rosalie's eyes and trying not to look as if she was struggling with the devastation inside her.

"Fine," Rose finally snapped. "But you stay near the house. We don't know what they're finding out there and we don't know when they'll be back." She didn't have to add that there were only two family members here to guard her and the children. Bella was sure Rose wouldn't consider a wolf as part of their defensive team.

Bella nodded, not allowing herself to consider the well of emotion that could swallow her, drowning her only opportunity to make things right. Not allowing herself to think of changing her mind.

"Are you going somewhere? Can I go?" Meredith asked, appearing out of nowhere and interrupting her mother's thoughts.

"No, Sweetie, sorry. Leah and I just need some grown-up time," Bella said. When she extended her hand, Meredith came towards her, accepting her hug. "I love you," Bella managed to say. "When he gets home, you can ask Edward to take you both outside."

Meredith humphed her disgust for this suggestion, the sound muffled against Bella's shoulder.

While she didn't doubt the intensity of Meredith's feeling, Bella also knew that it would blow over soon enough. Then she ended that stream of thought before it drifted into what the next few days would look like at her house. Clearing her throat, she said, "Just remember that Edward loves you just like I do. Even when I make you clean up your own messes."

Meredith pulled away, her face hardened by this reminder. "Fine," she said, frowning before she turned and walked away in a huff.

Bella's heart cracked into rough shards, each one feeling as if it was slicing into her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

She had spotted Josh walking into the powder room as she talked with Meredith and excused herself, saying, "Just a pitstop for the pregnant lady before we go outside." She was amazed how much humor and calm she had injected into her own voice.

Josh was thoroughly engrossed at the bathroom sink, pouring water from one cup to another, a look of furtive concentration on his face.

"Love you, buddy," she said, giving him a hug from the side. He wouldn't turn to face her. "Grandma Esme and Rose are here if you need anything and Edw—Man will be back soon"

"Man," Josh acknowledged, still fixated on the water he was pouring. "Water."

Bella couldn't help it, desperately burying her face in his curls and inhaling. "Yes," she said, making herself smile when Josh glanced up and met her gaze in the mirror. "Man." Her voice remained miraculously unbroken. Unlike her heart.

At the door, Bella reached for her coat and she slipped out to join Leah on the porch. She led the way, away from the house but still within sight of the kitchen windows in case Esme was watching. She could feel Leah studying her as they walked.

"You look like a woman on a mission." Leah finally said, a trace of humor in her voice.

"I am," Bella replied in the barest of whispers, glad for once that the wolves had the same supernatural hearing ability as vampires.

"Okay." Leah glanced around her, finally spotting what she was looking for. "Here," she said.

Bella looked around. The green space seemed unremarkable, a low boulder flanked by trees. "Why here?"

"Because there's a good spot for you to sit down," Leah said, chuckling, gathering leaves and twigs. She pulled a small, shallow bowl and matches from her backpack and pointed to the boulder, "Have a seat."

Bella did, only too grateful to be relieved of her own weight. Her internal maelstrom had exhausted her, and she'd hardly had enough energy to be depleted in the first place.

Bella watched Leah work at the small fire she started, sprinkling things from a small pouch over its orange flames. When she began to speak, it was in a language Bella didn't understand, but whose patterns she recognized from what felt like a long, long time ago.

Her words concluded, Leah sat beside Bella, and they waited for the flames to burn themselves out. Tipping the ashes into a damp patch of soil, Leah reached out to dip her thumb into them before smearing them carefully on Bella's neck. Then she ground out the last feeble sparks with the heel of her boot.

Bella felt like those sparks, the weight of her choice pressing her into that dirt.

Not long, she thought, as Leah kicked damp earth over the ashes.

"So now that we're done with that bullshit, what is it you really need me for?" Leah asked.

Hoping desperately that Esme and Rose were occupied with the children at that moment, Bella voiced her request in the quietest mumble she could manage. "I need you to get me out of here. I need to . . . go somewhere."

Leah glanced toward the house. "A jailbreak, huh?"

Bella nodded, trying to communicate with her eyes what she didn't dare say out loud, even this far from the house. Slipping her hand into her pocket, Bella quietly silenced her phone. She had already disabled the location setting while Leah was working.

Leah seemed to pick up on her desperation and studied her for a long moment before she said, "You got it."

It worked out better than Bella had expected. Leah had parked her car at the end of the driveway, well out of sight of the house. The two of them begin wandering in that direction as if they had nowhere to be and, although she kept expecting the front door to burst open, it never happened. Once they reached the car, she settled herself in the passenger seat as Leah got behind the wheel.

"Nothing like a hybrid for a quiet getaway." Leah chuckled, before she started the almost-silent engine and took off down the road.

Even with her heart in her throat, Bella felt a sense of relief. They would be missed quickly but, with the children still at the house, and with Leah blocking Alice's visions, no one would know which way to go to find her until it was too late.

Leah hadn't asked where they were going, and that was good, because Bella wasn't sure yet. Pulling out her phone, she replied to the text from Victoria. Then she closed her eyes and put her head back, praying she wasn't too late, and that this wasn't all in vain.

"So, when're you due?" Leah asked.

"A week or so," Bella answered automatically.

"Hmm," Leah said. "Are you worried about the baby?"

Bella opened her eyes and turned to look at Leah. Did she suspect something? "No," Bella replied, knowing even as she said the word how fierce a lie it was. But she had set this course and could not deviate from it. She saw no other way unless another bargain could be made . . .

Her phone buzzed with a reply as they were crossing Lion's Gate Bridge. Once she read it, she switched off her phone completely.

"Keep going north," she told Leah, who nodded in response. The set line of her friend's mouth told Bella that she was realizing they weren't here for the initial reason given.

"How far?"

"I'll tell you when we get there," Bella replied.

Some twenty minutes later, Leah pulled off the highway, drawing an alarmed, "This isn't it," from Bella.

"And just where is 'it', Bella? And for what?" She raised an eyebrow at her.

Bella swallowed. She couldn't say, yet. They needed to be close enough that Leah couldn't drag her away.

"Look," Leah began. "I'm not sure what's going on here but this isn't just you needing to get out of the house because you feel stifled and need a break. If I'm going to single-handedly start a war between my pack and your coven, I'd at least like to know the reason why."

Leah wasn't budging and Bella didn't blame her. When she heard Leah's phone begin to ring in her pocket, she knew she'd have to come clean if she meant to go through with this.

"I need your help."

"Yeah, I kinda got that. For what?" Leah asked, eyes narrowing. Leah's phone kept ringing. She ignored it.

Pulling in a controlled breath, Bella said, "I need you to take me somewhere and leave me, and then take someone else, maybe two people, back. And I need you to let me go, without trying to protect me." She stared, eyes blurring, hoping Leah understood. Hoping she didn't need to say the words. Hoping Leah would accept this choice. Leah's phone stopped ringing . . . then started up again.

Ignoring it, Leah stared right back at her, features pulled up in shrewd observation. "Your husband doesn't know, does he?"

"No." Her stomach twisted.

"Aaand that's why I'm really here." Leah muttered to herself.

"I'm sorry," Bella said softly.

"Is it—"

"It's really better if you don't ask, Leah," Bella said.

"Like hell it is. Is it her? The one that came after you? The one that took Charlie?"

"Yes." She leaned forward, trying to squash the anxiety in her gut. "If I don't do this, a girl dies. There's . . . there's even a chance Charlie might still be alive, and if I don't go, he could die too. And there's been—there have been enough people who've died in my place."

A painful ripple travelled over Leah's face as she glanced briefly at Bella's stomach. Bella laid a hand there but met Leah's gaze.

Yes. There had been enough.

"Okay," Leah said, making her decision. "Then I'm glad we did the smudging. You'll need all the protection you can get."

Bella watched Leah reach into her pocket and either turn off or silence her phone.

If Leah thought she had any kind of chance, walking into what she was walking into, Bella wished her well with her fantasies. There was no coming back from where she was going.

Leah pulled back onto the road, following Bella's directions. The midday traffic was negligible, and they were soon pulling off of the highway again, this time into the maw of Provincial Park. It was closed for the season, but the paths were ungated. The most northwards one was where Bella needed to go.

Leah said nothing as they both stood in front of the car, its warmth contrasting sharply with the chill of the day and the wind that whipped up the waters of the Sound.

Looking ahead, Bella stared at the path for some time, its sharp bend to the left leaving it mostly in the shadow of ancient conifers. The empty curve would likely see the last steps she ever took. Unless, of course, Victoria had plans—

Don't, she scolded herself. Don't think about it. Just think about Charlie and Chelsea, your children, Edward . . .

"Now or never," she mumbled.

Leah's face was like stone as Bella turned to face her. She handed over her phone and purse, tentatively putting a hand to the locket at her neck. She couldn't make herself undo the clasp, and let her hands fall.

"Thank you, Leah," she said."Tell Edward it was my decis—"

Leah shook her head and cut her off. "Not happening," she said gruffly. "I won't be anywhere near your husband after this, if I value my own life." She reached out and touched the ashes on Bella's neck before letting her hand fall to her side. "I'll wait here for ten minutes."

Bella nodded and then turned and walked away, her heartbeat quickening as she slowly approached the bend in the path. Nothing happened and no one appeared, so she kept walking. She began counting, trying to keep herself calm, wondering how long she would have to wait, pondering what she might say if there was a chance to bargain, at least for her baby's life. The lightheadedness that had plagued her for months returned, and she could feel her own heartbeat in her neck just before she stumbled over a root buried in leaves. Before she fell, a set of warm hands grabbed at her.

"Mrs. H.?" Chelsea sobbed. "Oh my God! Can you help me? There was this woman! She—"

"Yes," Bella breathed. "Yes. Keep walking. My friend Leah is waiting for you, just keep walking the direction you're going. Okay?"

"Please come with me," Chelsea said.

Bella got a better look at her. Chelsea was dirty, her clothes smelling like she'd been in them too long, but she appeared otherwise unharmed.

"You'll be okay," Bella said, a strange relief brewing in her midsection as she kept looking around them, hoping against hope to see a face even more dear to her. "My friend will drive you home. Just keep walking." She spoke more firmly. "Keep walking. Okay?"

"Okay." Chelsea's voice shook, but she nodded, wiping her face and turning to walk unsteadily away from Bella.

Bella watched Chelsea's figure disappear around the bend in the path and then, at last, felt the painful thwack to the back of her head that preceded blissful unawareness.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	52. Darkness and Light

A/N for 2020-04-05: My beta, Eeyorefan12, was instrumental in putting this and the last chapter together. Many, many thanks to her for the way she's raised this story up from its infancy.

Hoping you are all well. It is a beautiful sunny, Palm Sunday here in Vancouver, BC.

~ Erin

* * *

Someone was beating on something, a dull pounding that made her head pulse with a steady ache. Moaning a little, finding it difficult to move, Bella realized the ache was her head throbbing to the beat of her heart. The smell of the woods and Chelsea's panicked face swam back to her and she groaned in earnest, but didn't open her eyes.

"Ooh, the fun's about to start!" The voice was unnaturally high, its discordant chimes making Bella wince.

Something jammed painfully into her back, making Bella cry out.

"Be careful—don't break her yet!" the same voice hissed.

Through her now open and watering eyes, Bella took in the scene in front of her. Unfinished walls were partially obscured by a furnace and hot-water tank. The exposed studs looked dry, but there was the odour of untouched dampness. Near the ceiling were several white rectangles—windows, but the glass had been painted—papered over?—she couldn't quite tell. She was trying very hard to distinguish between the two, because that detail was a lot easier to focus on than what she knew was behind her. Her fuzzy gaze drifted to the left, where a box of newborn diapers sat beside a box of infant formula. She squinted at them to make sure, and when she did, swallowed her mounting nerves.

"Too scared to look, Bella?" the voice laughed.

Bella pushed herself up to kneeling, wincing at the pain in her back, and then turned herself to face the other side of the room. Victoria's hair was just as violently red as she remembered, if not even more alarmingly so under the caged utility bulbs that dotted the ceiling. A man—a vampire—she corrected herself, of moderate stature stood beside her. He had sandy brown hair and unremarkable features. Were it not for the unnatural brightness of his skin and the red glow of his eyes, he could've blended in anywhere. "Say hello to Murray, Bella."

Bella stared, contemplating her response.

Victoria's fingers interrupted her brief flicker of thoughts, making a brutal vice at her jaw. "Say hello to Murray, Bella."

Bella managed a garbled, "Hello."

"Good girl," Victoria said, releasing her grip, patting Bella's jaw with the equivalent of a slap.

"Well," Victoria said, standing back beside Murray. "I'm positively giddy. It's like Christmas morning, and I barely know what to do with you."

Bella decided her silence would be wise, and swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat.

"Get her some water, Murray."

Murray lifted an eyebrow and looked sideways at Victoria. His distaste for the task was obvious. Victoria rolled her eyes and explained, "She's thirsty, and I don't want her dying on me yet."

The chill that had started with Victoria's touch slithered down Bella's body. She'd hoped her end would be fairly quick, or at least not prolonged. The diapers, the formula, and the water all colluded in extinguishing this hope. Victoria didn't plan on killing her quickly.

Murray was gone and back in a blink, holding out a cup of water for Bella to take. With trembling fingers, she pressed the plastic cup to her lips and swallowed carefully, trying not to make eye contact with them.

An abrupt band of pressure tightened its way around her midsection, and Bella closed her eyes and breathed into the small contraction. When her eyelids lifted again, Victoria and and Murray still stood staring at her in exactly the same positions. Perhaps they were going to stare her to death. Her nerves were drawn so tight, the laugh barked itself out of her before she could stop it.

Victoria's lip curled. "And what's entertaining you, little girl?"

Fear abruptly strangled her voice. She shook her head, immediately regretting it as the throbbing intensified. Keeping her gaze lowered, she tried to will the headache away.

"You can play with her if you want, Murray. Just make sure you're careful. I seem to remember brunettes are your favourite."

Bella's stomach churned as she looked up at him.

"Hmm," Murray said, cocking his head slightly. "Not ones quite that big." His mouth twisted a little.

"Your choice," Victoria said. Her voice was flat with disappointment.

Murray remained statuesque. Only his tongue moved, traversing the outline of his lips in a hungry motion.

Bella stuck her gaze back on the floor, trying to breathe evenly.

Victoria obviously didn't like Murray's refusal, and her stance shifted. She was agitated, and there was a bite to her tone as she spoke. "Murray is very useful, Bella. I discovered him quite by accident when I was looking for your darling Edward after I thought he'd abandoned you. I kept Murray safe when he was a newborn, didn't I, Murray?"

Murray grunted his assent, still eyeing Bella like a snack.

"And then we discovered that all those Cullens couldn't use their gifts with him. They can't see his future or hear his thoughts, or anyone's who's near him. It was perfect!"

Bella closed her eyes again, realizing in that moment she'd still been harbouring the tiny hope that giving herself up to Victoria would make it possible for the Cullens to find them both. That brittle little flame of possibility was quickly extinguished by this new revelation.

"That's right," Victoria crooned. "You're completely mine. They're not coming. He's not going to save you this time."

Bella opened her eyes and stared at the woman, hoping her expression was as black as her feelings towards her. The explosion of hatred made her grind her teeth, but didn't keep the words in. "Fuck you," she spat at Victoria.

Victoria laughed, the high notes echoing in the small space. "Don't you wish."

Bella heard the snap before she felt it, choking out a cry as she grasped the broken finger on her left hand, closing her eyes and breathing through the pain. Victoria had moved so quickly, she hadn't even seen her coming.

"Behave," Victoria hissed, her breath chilling Bella's face.

The wise thing, she knew now, was not to provoke Victoria more, so Bella remained still, not speaking, letting her eyes wander over the two vampires.

Victoria stuck out her hand. "Noticed it yet? Did you like my surprise?"

Bella saw it then. The upper portion of one of Victoria's fingers was missing, a pale stump sitting in the middle of her left hand.

"It was worth every bit of pain to know you would all be fooled." She giggled. "You were _so_ easy to fool with Murray."

Bella closed her eyes again. The hope she and the Cullens had dared entertain back then had been crushingly painful when it collapsed on top of them. The list of corpses made in her own name traipsed over her conscience again. She was here. She was ending this. This would have to be enough.

When Bella dared to open her eyes and look up again, Victoria and Murray's mouths were moving, the silent conversation unfolding at a speed she couldn't follow.

Whatever was going to happen, Bella knew it wasn't going to be quick—at least not for her baby. Veering away from that troubling thought, she pictured Josh and Mer with Edward, thinking of what they would look like as they grew older. They would be safe and loved for as long as they lived. Well cared for. They'd never want for anything material, she was sure of that. They might long for her, but they'd have Edward and all the other Cullens to fill that void.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to her baby, hand on her abdomen, squirming as a stronger contraction made her body squeeze in on itself.

As her jeans became suddenly wet, Bella sniffed in a hasty breath and caught the distinct sea-watery smell that told her that her waters had broken.

While she was close to full-term, she was still more than a week from her due date. Stifling a sob, she made herself breathe. When she'd made the choice to hand herself over to Victoria, she'd expected to die unpleasantly, but she hadn't expected to be physically parted from her baby when it happened, or to witness whatever Victoria planned to do to her son or daughter.

The idea of killing her own child, to spare it a worse death, flickered briefly and then extinguished itself. Even on the unlikely chance she could make herself do so, she knew Victoria would intervene if it ran against her plans.

A powerful contraction forced Bella to bend over and grunt. The wetness at the seat of her jeans spread, and her vision blurred as she tried to find a focal-point in the room.

"Ugh, she's leaking," Murray said. His lip curled.

"Oh," Victoria said, clearly delighted. "I'd expected to have to wait, but look at this."

Bella contemplated telling her to fuck off again, but the contraction was too strong. She tried to get onto all fours, her finger singing with pain as it touched the ground.

"Do you know what I'm going to do, Bella?" Victoria crooned.

Victoria might as well have been talking to a wall, the contraction was so powerful. Bella's vision was shrinking, a blackening shadow creeping in from the edge of her eyes. A groan crawled out of her throat.

As the contraction eased, Victoria spoke. "I really thought he'd left you. When I saw you all drugged up, I wondered if you really were his mate. But clearly, he couldn't stay away, though how you could love a snack, I have no idea. I'd settled on simply killing him. It wouldn't be as good as making him suffer through losing you, but now—oh now, I have _so_ many ways to hurt him." Her leering grin appeared in front of Bella's face. She whispered, "I'm going to change you Bella, and then I'm going to watch you kill your baby. And then, when you've lost what little of your sanity and humanity remain, I'm going to take you to a nice little playground full of children and watch you lose the rest of your mind."

Bella had never been so grateful for another contraction. She couldn't have heard anything else Victoria said even if she'd wanted to, groaning and growling as the pain flamed into her back and groin.

When the smell of pennies reached her, Bella retched automatically, watery vomit spreading over the floor. As she opened her eyes, Bella saw that Victoria's feet had retreated to the other side of the room.

"Go get him," Victoria snapped at Murray.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

If there was an answer, Bella didn't hear it.

While the contraction finally faded, the blurring blackening in Bella's vision did not. She didn't know what Victoria's timeline was, but her own was becoming very clear. Unless Victoria had a stock of antihypertensive drugs with which she was planning to inject Bella, the complications from her labour were going to end her life in short order.

The skin over her arms and face felt tight. Her already swollen left hand was fattening again, the wedding ring cutting into her flesh.

A snarling and scrabbling from the stairs distracted her from the beginnings of her next contraction, and she stared at the exposed treads where three sets of very quickly-moving feet had appeared. The snarling became a roar, and then her father was standing a few yards away from her.

Murray was holding one arm, another vampire the other.

The snarling stopped abruptly. Charlie's mouth pressed itself into a thin line, and his chest stopped moving. His bright red eyes stared at Bella.

"Dad?" She could barely believe it. She'd hoped he was alive, had feared he might be dead . . . but somehow, she'd never imagined _this_.

Charlie made a distressed sound, struggling against his captors.

"Get a good look, Bella. This is going to be you in a few days," Victoria hissed. "Just think of all the children you can drink with him. I think we can even find little Meredith and Joshua to keep you satisfied."

Charlie's body trembled and shook, and the two vampires holding him visibly struggled to keep him in place.

The list of things Bella knew of newborn vampires was short, but its salient points were in front of her: strong, violently hungry, and completely lacking in self-control. Her blood must be driving him insane.

"She smells good, doesn't she?" Victoria hissed delightedly in Charlie's direction. "But she's not for you. We'll find you someone else—"

The movement was rapid, but for Bella it was almost in slow motion. Charlie's arms flicked off the ones holding him, the deafening crack of splintering wood filling the room. Bella squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away, as an unexpected sense of relief flowed over her. This was better. Faster. And it was her father. She had already forgiven him as she waited for the bite that would end this.

But it never came.

There was the sound of shattering glass and hissed exclamations.

Bella looked up.

"No!" Victoria shrieked. Bella spotted Murray's feet as they disappeared out the window, but Charlie and his other captor were already gone. Victoria stared at the empty space, and then turned to Bella, howling.

Grabbing Bella's throat, Victoria yelled, "How long for the baby?"

Charlie's flight had done one thing for Bella, and one thing alone: it had given her a flicker of hope back. She didn't know if it would make any difference to her own outcome, but if it screwed with Victoria, it was worth trying.

"I don't know." Her voice croaked out the lie.

"Hours? A day?"

"A day, maybe," Bella said more easily, feeling Victoria's hand slacken.

Victoria yanked her hand away. "Murray!" She roared, but there was no answer, or at least not one that Bella could hear.

The blackness that haloed Bella's eyesight had crept further inwards, the pounding in her head now constant and all-encompassing. She closed her eyes again, still perched on her knees and the heels of her palms. The room hadn't been warm, and it was rapidly growing colder with the broken window. She shuffled herself backwards, away from the draft, sliding her body into a corner. It was becoming difficult to take a full breath.

The world-tilting dizziness was sudden. Rolling onto her side, she groaned against the mounting pains in her head and abdomen. Breathing, she blinked, feeling the spaces between her eyes' closing and opening lengthen, time distorting itself. Blinking, blacking out, and possibly dozing off became interchangeable. In the brief periods of consciousness, Bella understood that she had been left alone. Victoria and the others were gone.

Finally, a feeling she remembered all too well asserted itself, and she began to pant. It was the only thing she knew she could do to stave off the birth. Her fingers were painful sausages as she held up her hand to look at them, the broken ring finger a disturbingly numb purple.

When she saw Edward and heard him calling her name, she knew the end was close.

"Seeing things," she murmured. "Not real." She must've been having seizures and now hallucinations.

"Keep panting," her delusion said and then jabbed something into her arm.

Her, "Ow!" was lost in the next contraction, which she forgot to pant through, pushing instead.

"NO!" Imaginary Edward said. "Don't push! Whatever you do, don't push!" She could almost feel his hands on her face. "I'm here, and I'm real, and you need to _not push_." Then the hands were gone and her legs felt suddenly colder, as if a breeze was coming in through the broken window. The chill reached her belly and seemed to settle there for a few moments before retreating again and moving down her body.

Her tears were unnaturally cool over her swollen face, but the choked sobs were familiar. It was the most abject self-pity she had ever indulged in. This just wasn't fair. She'd lost Edward for so long, and this was the end; she wasn't even going to be able to touch him again or hold her baby with him. It was almost cruel that her mind was playing these tricks now, making her think he was here with her. She shook her head. "Not real," she murmured again, trying to keep herself from false hope. She knew better than anyone what tricks the mind could play. It was not the time to fall for them and yet . . . there was something . . .

Her thoughts were becoming more fractured. Sacrificing herself had been worth it, she told herself, even if she had to die. But Victoria had disappeared . . . what if Alice could see her now? If the Cullens could find the baby before Victoria came back, then all the children would be safe with Edward, and Victoria couldn't use her anymore. Bella needed to let the baby be born before it was too late, before her body failed her.

Still, the delusion in front of her was tenacious. "I AM REAL! STOP PUSHING, BELLA!" Then the vision of Edward pressed his lips to her swollen ones and made his presence suddenly and unmistakably tangible. It was the briefest of kisses but it was enough for her to realize that Edward was actually there. He had come for her and he would save her child.

"PANT!" He roared, grabbing another syringe from somewhere, stabbing her leg this time. There was a desperation to his actions that Bella understood: she _was _going to die. She thought she had called his name then, but he didn't seem to hear her as all his focus seemed to be on what was going on beyond her vision. She needed to remind him. She needed to make sure he understood something.

"The children," she gasped out, another strong contraction stealing the rest of her words. She struggled to draw more breath. She had to tell him. She raised her hand, reaching for him. "Edward, the childr-"

"Shut up!"

"You promised to—"

"Shut up and pant!" he snapped back at her.

She did, her muscles straining with her efforts, but she cried out at the new and fiery pain between her legs and the familiar pressure she was helpless to resist. Her face tensed with panic and she looked at Edward as he stilled his movements and raised his eyes to hers.

His features were transformed in that moment, grief and resignation flickering over them. He lifted her up off the ground, pulling her into an embrace so that she rested on her knees, her arms draped over his shoulders.

He was much quieter when he spoke again. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're safe now, and the baby's going to be fine." His hands brushed her hair from her face. "I love you." He kissed her cheek, and then her lips before pulling back a little. "It's time now."

She nodded, the tears still cold on her cheeks, hearing what he had said, and knowing exactly what he had left unsaid. The baby would be fine. She wouldn't be. "Okay," she said, and then pressed the heels of her hands into his shoulders, straining and screaming and pushing with all the strength that she had left.

Edward's hands were cold as they touched her intimate flesh, but she trusted them with the small body that finally slipped free from her own. Edward caught Bella before she could collapse, pressing the infant to her chest as he laid them both down on the ground. He rubbed the little back through a blanket he'd quickly wrapped around them until a soft mewling from the baby made her blink with relief

"A daughter," Edward whispered softly.

_His_ daughter now_,_ she mused, comforted by the thought.

Bella's arms shook, and she struggled to keep them in place around the baby. Edward had slipped a needle into her arm, and was busy connecting a tube and a bag of something to it which he hung up somewhere behind her. Then his hands were at her abdomen, kneading the now loose and tender flesh.

Her eyes were drooping, feeling heavy again. She fought to keep them open, and was rewarded by the sight of her child opening her own eyes. They were a startling vibrant blue—Matt's eyes. "Hello," she whispered.

"Can you try to nurse her?" Edward asked softly. His jaw strained as he looked at Bella. "It might help." With what, he didn't say.

"Okay," she said weakly, trying to shift her hold, but her arms were useless. It was a struggle to draw a breath.

Edward picked up the baby and held her with one arm while helping Bella open her shirt. She felt very heavy, and very tired. She could see and feel the swelling in her wrists and fingers. Putting the child to her breast, again with Edward's help, she sighed at the familiar sensation. The latch was good. The baby was healthy and strong.

"Victoria?" Bella asked again. The world felt like it was beginning to slide backwards away from her, bits and pieces of her vision flickering. She was so tired—

"They followed her," Edward said. His hands had returned to her abdomen, still kneading. His voice sounded hollow and distracted.

As the baby nursed, Bella observed Edward, seeing him inject something into the IV he had set up, dimly registering the bloody blankets beside him, watching him stuff more of them between her legs. The random irony that he must have gotten them from Victoria's stash floated in her thoughts . . . as did a question.

"How'd you find me?" she slurred out.

"Alice could suddenly see you and Victoria." He was studying her belly intently. "We don't know why."

She had an answer for him, she thought. The other vampire, what was his name? She strained for the memory. "She had a helper," she murmured. "Manny . . . no, Murray. She said he could . . . block you all."

Edward's eyes narrowed as he looked over at her. "Where is he now?"

In answer, she tried to shake her head but it was a struggle just to turn it from one side to the other. "Don't know. He . . . ran, I think." She struggled to remember why but the memory wouldn't come. "Is everyone . . . okay?"

"I'm sure they are," Edward said, trying to smile at her. The effort died on his lips as her eyelids fluttered. It was so hard for her to keep them open. "Bella, can you look at me?"

It was like lifting lead, but she did it, holding her eyelids open, fighting the desire to close them.

Edward's hands had stilled once more and he settled back on his knees as he looked at her. His voice cracked with emotion when he spoke. "Bella, I asked you once if you would want me to change you, if I couldn't save you."

The seconds stretched out like hours before she could latch onto the words, fumbling at their meanings. Their conglomerations of sound didn't make sense. Only the fuzziest intentions lurched forward in her thoughts. Edward was here. He was her home now. He was safe. He would keep bad things from happening. He could—

"The medication I've given you has stopped the seizures, but it won't hold them off much longer. Your lungs are failing and your placenta—" He looked down at her abdomen. Her gaze followed. The word registered, but only vaguely.

"I can't save you." His voice trembled. His bloody hands were now holding her arms, which had gone slack around the baby. "Please let me save you another way."

Bella's bleary eyes tried to hold onto him, sliding down to look once more at the baby that was curled up on her chest. She could barely make sense of the choice he was offering. "I love you," she whispered to the baby. To her children. To Edward. This all made sense.

"Please, don't leave me, Bella, let me change you," he whispered, leaning over her and bringing his forehead to hers. "Please, Bella. Please. Let me change you. You can't leave us. _Please _let me."

The darkness was greater than the light in the room, and she blinked, her weakened gaze torn between his tortured eyes and her daughter's sleepy face.

She had always known, deep down, that it would come to this, but she had thought she would have more time with her children—with him. Even when she had allowed herself to consider it, the times Edward had asked her and even when he hadn't, she had always known what her answer should be . . . would have to eventually be. And now . . . she was so tired and it was just too hard to contemplate all that she was leaving behind, or what it would mean for her family. Whether it was right or wrong, it had always been an impossible choice for her to make. With her last conscious breath, she uttered the only word she had energy for, the word that held her grief for all the losses she knew her death would bring: "No."

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	53. Betrayal

A/N for 2020-04-12: A happy Easter to you all folks. As always, many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her stellar beta work.

Happy reading!

~ Erin

* * *

Edward's hands were pressed together as if in prayer while he sat crouched in his chair, poised like a gargoyle guarding a mausoleum.

But he _was_ guarding a mausoleum, he reminded himself, for wasn't this the very definition of one? A chamber for entombment above ground. A room for burial. A large tomb.

Hers.

He fingered the dark fabric of his trousers, a movement quite singular amidst the stillness that was his natural state. For one of his kind, reasons for moving were already rare, and were rarer still now that he was more alone than he could ever remember being in this life. There were others here; he could hear the occasional swish of movement somewhere nearby, even a faint hushed whisper or two. They would not approach him, though. His solitary state had been his own choice, made in an agony of sorrow and guilt, and no one who truly cared for him would disturb it—or him, in his grief.

And so, he fidgeted. The wedding band on his finger caught his eye and he felt himself removing it, feeling the weight of it in his hand, idly rolling it back and forth in his palm. There was no need to hide his unnatural stillness here, where no humans would see him, but he continued anyway. An unbidden memory surfaced from the Forks High School cafeteria, the brown-eyed new girl, her thoughts silent to him, as he engaged her in cryptic conversation. He had picked up the cap from her drink and had spun it between his fingers, attempting to make himself appear more human and less monstrous.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the surface beside him. The body that rested on it was more still than he was now.

_Bella's_ body, he reminded himself.

When he'd asked her in that darkening basement if he could change her, Bella's 'No,' had sliced into his chest like a knife. He'd waited, losing precious seconds, and then minutes, begging her to let him change her, not to leave him, hoping for another answer. He'd waited in vain. The only movement from her had been involuntary and spasmodic as the seizures set in. Then he'd needed to move the baby to a safer place before he could tend to her mother. Bella's bleeding, initially delayed by the drugs, had begun again, her veins freshly rupturing with the profound strain on her body. Her breathing had become a series of tortured gasps, her lungs filling with fluid. He'd listened closely, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before her heart, too, began to fail.

He tore himself away from remembering past horrors. They were too painful. He focused instead on the lifeless but still precious body before him.

If he touched her, he knew her skin would feel as deathly cold as his.

But he didn't.

He didn't want to sully the memory of his last embrace of her warm flesh, when he had drawn her scent so deeply into his lungs, hoping it would last him forever. He wanted only to savor the last press of his lips to hers and to remember the words he had spoken against her ear, knowing it was already too late, that she was too far gone to hear him. He had assured her that her children would be safe, had resworn his vow to watch over them always, had promised her that he would always love her, and honor her, forever and ever.

And then, with whispered pleas for her forgiveness and apologies and self-recrimination for his own weakness, he had sunk his teeth into her neck and let the ambrosia of her blood fill his mouth.

It had been Carlisle and Esme who had arrived soon after, alerted by Alice's now-clear visions. Esme had taken charge of the baby while Edward's father helped him to keep Bella's heart beating strongly enough to carry his venom through her collapsing veins. It had felt like a losing battle, but they had persisted and somehow . . . somehow, her heart had continued to beat.

And only then had Edward truly realized the gravity of his actions.

"She didn't want this," he'd choked out to his father. He had looked down at Bella's unconscious face and ached to take her in his arms, but instead he'd raised his hands and gripped his hair, almost tight enough to tear it out, to keep himself from doing so. He hadn't the right to touch her in that moment.

"I asked her if I could change her, Carlisle. God, I _begged her, _and she said no."

Esme's shocked gasp wasn't for what Edward had done, but for Bella's answer. Carlisle's surprise had been unspoken, though just as clear. His father had looked first at the baby in his wife's arms, then at his distraught son, and finally, at Bella's swollen and bruised body, before resting his hand on Edward's shoulder.

"Her cognition would have been impaired. Surely, she would have been barely conscious by then. She couldn't have been thinking clearly, Edward."

But his father's words had given him no comfort. He could only think of how he'd betrayed Bella.

"She said no," he had whispered.

That had been almost three days ago.

Like Bella, the Cullens' home was now clean and devoid of all but a suggestion of living, human scents. A very small part of him spared a thought for how much his family cared for them and understood that they had done their best to make this transition easier for his mate. They had meticulously scrubbed away the odours that would tempt her most in her newborn state.

But most of him was terrified there would _be_ no transition and that he'd done something wrong, or worse, that he'd been too late.

Alice couldn't see Bella's future at all. And she couldn't just not see her, she could only see blackness when she searched for Bella. Not the blank that she saw with the wolves, but pure blackness.

Then there was the silence. The nearly three days of Bella so still and unmoving. A transformation unlike any he or Carlisle had ever witnessed.

Something was wrong, despite all that his family members tried to tell him.

"The venom will work," Carlisle had said. "It _is_ working." He'd gestured to Bella's body, visibly changing as they watched. But his father's thoughts had been muddied by the slightest of doubts, and this was enough to obscure all the hope Edward needed to hear from his sire.

She should be screaming and writhing, or begging. Or something. _Anything._

He closed his eyes and tried to smother the maelstrom of feelings that wanted to consume him.

She _was_ changing. The pearly gleam that her skin gave in response to the room's diffuse light was testament to that. But he had waited so long . . . too long. By the time he performed his selfishly impulsive act, Bella's body and brain were already starved of oxygen. What if the damage to her mind had already been too much?

And even if it hadn't, she'd said no. She hadn't wanted this.

He closed his eyes as another wave of remorse washed over him. Since that day, he'd barely touched the baby—his daughter, he corrected himself. He was her father in all the ways that mattered, and he would need to be that in every possible way going forward. He would be a father to _all _of the children, he reminded himself. With begrudging admiration, he acknowledged how Bella had unknowingly bound him to life when she had extracted his promise to watch over her children. If she did not survive this, he would not be able to follow her into death.

And his youngest child might never know her mother. His gut tightened at the thought.

"Please, no," he whispered.

He just couldn't let Bella go. That's what it had come down to. She'd said no, and he'd refused to accept it. His very body had revolted against what he'd tried to make his mind do. He couldn't watch her die. He couldn't bear to lose her.

So now he waited.

He made himself think of the children. They were all with Carlisle and Esme, safely away in Alaska.

It had been Rose who'd called the Denali's, explaining that there were now three young children who had lost their mother to this life. The parallel to the Denalis' own loss had been enough to thaw their frosty relations, at least temporarily, and to let Carlisle and Esme bring Meredith, Josh, and the baby to be kept safe there. Irina had taken Grant away to the Cullens' house in Alaska. While he'd learned remarkable control in the months since his arrival, they wouldn't risk the children's safety.

Esme had already texted several times with updates and pictures. Edward replied as he could, when his mind was not throttled with grief and fear.

Josh and Meredith were missing him.

He was missing them.

And he might have just destroyed his childrens' mother in his most reckless act yet.

The last unbroken pieces of his heart had cracked when he'd lied to his children.

"Mama's sick," Edward had told Josh.

"Sick?" Josh had repeated.

"How sick?" Meredith had asked, looking up from touching her baby sister's hand. Her thoughts sprang to her father—and his death.

"She's going to be okay," Edward had lied again. "But it's going to take a long time, and she's so sick that she can't be around people, because she might . . . make them sick too."

"Sick like before, when she was in the hospital?" Meredith had asked, relieved thoughts showing Edward her few memories of Bella's stay in the hospital after Josh's birth.

Hearing Bella's voice in Meredith's mind had made his head reel, feelings gnawing at his gut. "Yes, something like that," he had managed to say quietly.

He had been grateful when Jasper, close by, had subtly calmed him and everyone else in the room.

Giving the other news to them had been harder. "But, because she's not well, I need to stay and take care of her for now."

"But who will take care of us?" Meredith had asked. Her lip had begun to tremble, despite Jasper's presence. "You're our dad now."

It was a truly human reaction, having his throat clench in on itself. He had pretended to clear it, giving himself a moment to respond. "I am, and nothing is going to change that. But you're going to go visit our cousins in Alaska for a little while, while I start helping Mama. Then we'll be together."

Meredith had relaxed a little, her small shoulders easing, but Josh had kept staring, eyes set squarely on Edward's chest. His thoughts had been jumbled with alarm and panic.

"Just for a while, Josh," Edward had said, kneeling down to try and catch his boy's eyes. He hadn't want to overwhelm him, but he wanted his son—and he had paused mentally, absorbing the production of this word. Yes. He had wanted his _son_ to know this was only a temporary parting.

"I'll be with you soon. I just want to make sure Mama is okay. I want to make sure our family knows how to take care of her before I leave them to do that. I know they already know how to take care of you." He'd tried to smile in reassurance.

Josh's silent near-words might as well have been thumped into his chest: No, they don't.

"They do," he had told Josh. "And you're getting better at telling them what you need."

Josh had begun to cry, shaking his head. Meredith had barely been persuaded to let go of Edward, though she bravely held back her tears. Josh had spurned Edward's farewell hug, pivoting to follow Carlisle to the door. Edward had remained on the floor, arms partially extended, mildly stunned by this refusal. As the small party began heading out to the car, though, Josh had run back, throwing himself into Edward's arms for a fierce hug and then turning and running back to Esme and Carlisle.

The baby, as yet unnamed, had only yawned in Esme's arms as Edward approached and traced a finger over her wispy curls before gently kissing her forehead. He looked up to see Esme smiling softly at him, her thoughts hopeful and encouraging. Although she hadn't voiced it aloud, he knew she strongly believed Bella would not have refused to be changed if it meant leaving her children behind. How he wished he could have her faith.

A different sound in the room brought him back to himself.

Bella's heart was making its final thundering gallop to an ultimate silence, but still she didn't move. The remaining members of his family were gathering outside in the hall, ready to come to his aid if required.

Minutes went by. Still, no movement.

He looked down at his hands, one of them still holding his wedding band. He knew he should put it back on now, before Bella woke up . . . _if_ she woke up. Newborns generally came to awareness gradually, he knew from both experience and observation, but agitation usually followed. He expected that Bella would be no different; she hadn't expected to wake up in this state, after all, his guilty conscience reminded him.

But the ring was suddenly ripped from his grip, smacking up against the door, along with all other loose objects in the room, before everything crashed to the floor.

Bella was off the bed, crouched against the far wall, a growling, feral hiss coming from her throat. Her narrowed eyes scanned the space, but otherwise she was still. Waiting. Watching him.

"Bella?" Edward asked, not moving. He'd been thrown off his chair and backward against the edge of the doorframe. If he moved, he knew he'd loosen the splinters by his shoulders, and his instincts told him he needed to remain perfectly still.

But she was alive. Bella was alive—moving, yes, terrified, yes—but alive!

If he had a heart, it would have sounded like hers had moments before.

His rational self began to take precedence over his more emotive one, seeing how utterly terrified his wife was. Just from his peripheral vision, he saw that the room was in shambles, the glass in the windows shattered, objects displaced, his phone lying on the floor. What _had_ happened?

His family's thoughts from outside the room were loud—confused and concerned. Alice was seeing a vision of the devastation in the room. Only Jasper's thoughts cut through their chatter: _She's terrified, Be careful._

His throat felt suddenly dry with trepidation. Was she really alright? He struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice when he finally spoke. "It's me, Bella. You're like us now. It's going to take you some time to get used to this. It can be very . . . disorienting at first."

One of her hands went to her abdomen. "Where's the baby?" she asked, voice bright and clear. It was her voice, but purer.

His chest felt like it was going to explode with relief and joy. She was awake. She remembered. She was alright—

_Be careful,_ Jasper warned silently.

"She's with Esme and Carlisle, as are Josh and Meredith. They're all safe and well." He considered picking up the phone and trying to show her pictures, but decided against it. With however she'd managed to do . . . whatever she'd done, he knew she didn't have herself under control. Better to keep the stimulus minimal.

She was suddenly standing. "Where?"

"In Alaska. They're staying with the Denali's. Just to make sure they're well-protected." He remained exactly where he was, partly to keep her calm, but mostly because he was transfixed with the shock of his wife, so seemingly well in front of him.

"And Victoria?" She asked. There was a tremble in her voice.

He breathed out before answering. "Not yet."

Bella's face twisted in pain and her fists clenched as she grimaced at the floor, shaking her head.

"Bella?" he asked, trying to catch her eyes. This was one good thing he could offer her.

She looked at him.

"We know where she is." They didn't understand entirely why, or how, but Alice could see Victoria and what remained of her meager army. Despite how spotty her visions had been before, they were now crystal clear and they knew almost exactly how to find and destroy her. They had only delayed this long to support Edward and Bella through her change. Emmett, especially, had been chomping at the bit.

"And my Dad?" she asked.

"Your Dad?" he asked, his heart dropping. Didn't she remember? Charlie was dead for all they knew.

"Didn't you see him? She changed him." Bella said, her face full of mixed feelings again—but her memory seemed sound. "She tried to make him attack me, but he wouldn't. He ran."

Down the hall, Alice gasped. Edward could see her sift through spotty images of Charlie running in the woods, ones that she had dismissed before as being memories from Victoria. She was searching now, trying to place where he might be.

He felt a surge of hope, suddenly comprehending why Victoria might have left Bella unguarded. "Most of them scattered when we came, Bella. But if he ran, he's probably okay—"

"If she hasn't found him."

If.

Silence filled in the cracks of that very large possibility. Alice was looking, and silently promised to Edward that she would keep doing it, but couldn't see anything at the moment.

Edward studied Bella's form, which had been still since she started speaking. It was so startling to see her this way—like him.

Her attention appeared similarly captured, but not in admiration. "Why aren't you moving?" she demanded.

"I don't want to . . . alarm you," he said, slowly moving his back away from the door-frame. A shower of splinters and dust clattered over the floor.

"What happened after you—?" Her words cut off as she appeared suddenly beside him, the casual press of her hand crumbling more of the wood behind him. Gasping, she retracted it.

"It's alright," he assured her. It was. She was awake, and she was herself, but he couldn't understand the new and negative swell of feelings that were straining inside him. Still mindful of the newborn in front of him, he didn't dare plumb his own emotional depths. She needed him to stay calm.

"Bella," Jasper's voice called from just behind the door.

Bella looked at Edward quizzically. He'd already tried to hear her thoughts, and now attempted it again. Her mind remained completely silent.

"It's only Jasper. He'd like to come in," he explained.

Bella nodded.

When Jasper entered, she retreated quickly to the far back corner, crouched and growling.

Edward felt his brother's gift wash over himself, but only momentarily. The room rattled again with Bella's hissed, "NO!"

Through the dust and fragments of falling glass and drywall, Edward watched her. She looked terrified, but not of Jasper.

"What just happened?" she asked.

"It's alright," Edward said. "You seem to be . . . gifted." The description felt mildly disingenuous, given the destruction she'd caused so far, but if it could be harnessed, it would be a strength indeed.

_Definitely gifted_, Jasper thought at Edward. "Perhaps you'd feel better outside, Bella?" He looked towards the window, and then at Edward. Bella followed her brother-in-law's gaze in confusion.

"I'm not sure how you're doing what you're doing," Jasper said to her, "but I can guarantee you Esme would prefer to find her house standing when she returns. I recommend staying away from the rose bushes in the garden too."

Edward felt slightly unhinged, hearing the humorless chuckle escape from his own chest. "Good idea," he muttered. He wanted to go destroy something, and he wasn't sure yet why, but the juxtaposition of Jasper's practical concerns and the terror of the last days and whatever he was feeling—

"Perhaps you can show her the way, Edward?" Jasper suggested, turning and looking at him pointedly. _You're about to explode,_ he told Edward silently. _Best take it outside. _

Was he? Edward wondered, but there was no time to really consider his confusing emotions. Bella was still eyeing Jasper suspiciously from the corner. Edward knew she could see his brother properly now, and he recalled his own first sight of Jasper. The entire family had all initially reacted the same way—with defensive crouches and hisses. The many bite marks that dotted his brother's body were warning enough of his superior predatory nature. It had taken them all some time to overcome their more instinctual reactions to him.

Bella edged towards the window, and Edward moved closer. "That's right. Just up—" But she was gone, a streak blurring out into the woods.

He followed without much thought except for a brief and surprising moment of annoyance. Her strength might give her an advantage in terms of a fight, but it was nothing to match his speed, and he caught up to her easily. He kept himself back by a few steps, letting her fly through the trees, leaping over the rain-swelled creeks that slithered through the forest. He wasn't sure if she was still frightened, but he knew she was probably unnerved and overwhelmed by thirst.

Edward tried to focus on the task at hand, wishing he could shake off the sense of unease that clung to him. Running normally calmed any agitations, and he waited for that relief now. Yet, instead of the sense of joy and calm he expected to feel, now that Bella was well, he felt a slackening of his very careful control—control that he hadn't even realized he'd been exerting over the last few days. Suddenly, all the hurt and betrayal—the rage—at what she'd done were loose at once. His vision burned with the intensity of feeling. His angry voice surprised him, echoing off the surrounding trees. "Bella, stop!"

She could have stopped immediately, as any of his kind could, but she didn't.

And just like that, it was as if she wasn't running towards something, but as if she was running _from_ him—again.

_Oh, hell, no you don't! _Edward thought as he leapt into the air, aiming squarely to stop her.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	54. Consequences

A/N for 2020-04-26: My beta is an amazing character development fiend, amongst other things, and we are the lucky recipients of her skills. I hope you enjoy the fruit of our joint labours here, and that you are all keeping well in the midst of this pandemic.

Happy reading!

\- Erin

* * *

Edward leapt, snarling as he caught hold of Bella, bringing them both down in a rolling slide that came to an abrupt halt against a boulder. Their momentum left a muddy wake in the forest floor, the outer edges of which were dusted in pine splinters and needles.

Bella growled and hissed, yanking herself free from Edward's grip as they both jumped to their feet. Then she stilled abruptly, wide eyes locked on Edward, waiting, he realized, for him to explain why he'd stopped her, even while every muscle in her body was still primed and ready to run.

"Where do you think you're going?" he spat.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at him. "I . . . I don't know."

So, maybe she wasn't running from him after all, but was it possible she didn't remember what she had done? Why they were even here now?

"You left me," he said, his voice cracking. "You left all of us. You went knowing she would kill you! What the hell, Bella?"

"I went to save Chelsea and my father." There was a robotic note to her words, but there was also confusion in her expression. It was as if she didn't understand why he was upset with her.

She didn't seem sorry for what she'd done.

"You left your children, Bella. You didn't even think about it!"

"I had to leave. You didn't fix anything!" she shouted back.

He noted that her hands were in fists at her sides as she stood frowning at him but at least she was no longer poised for flight.

He couldn't help thinking that she sounded more like a teenager who had been caught breaking curfew than the mature and intelligent, if sometimes bull-headed woman he loved. Some logical part of his mind whispered careful to him. She was a newborn, and she hadn't even hunted. He should care. He really should, but he could barely hold himself together.

"And you thought getting yourself killed would, what? Serve me right?" he snarled.

"No!" she said. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, but it was _me_ she wanted." Bella hesitated for a moment, looking like she was searching for the rest of that thought. He didn't wait for her to find it.

"To hurt _me_!" he threw back.

He saw the moment that realization hit her...the hole in her rationalization literally staring her in the face. He watched her swallow hard, and he felt a momentary twinge of remorse for keeping her from what she needed to ease the burn. But the burn of his own pent-up anger was hard to let go.

Bella nodded once, acknowledging his words. "But I couldn't leave them there. Not when I knew it would save Chelsea...and maybe my Dad."

"But you would've sacrificed your own child to her? _Our_ child? Without asking me? Did you not even think to ask for my or my family's help? To even consider the disaster you were making in leaving us all out of this choice?"

"You would've said no, Edward. You said no after she took Grant, and you said no after Sue, and then Charlie—"

"You fault me for wanting to keep you _alive_?" He put his hands in his hair, gripping it in frustration. "Bella, what you did was utterly insane!"

He watched his words sail into her like knives.

Her face contorted with more feelings than he could name. When she spoke, it was with the suggestion of a tremor in her voice. "I knew that if I didn't go, she wouldn't stop. It might have been Josh or Meredith." She began breathing quickly, her hand to her throat. "You weren't there . . . and I just . . . I saw a way to keep anyone else from dying." Her fingers clutched harder at her throat, face continuing to contort with confusion and frustration.

His turmoil raged on, but his logical mind told him she needed to hunt, and that it was far too dangerous to not have her do so soon. The painful memories of his own transition to this life bubbled up between the cracks of his anger.

"You're thirsty," he said, forcing his voice to be even.

Bella made a soft affirmative grunt, her pale hand still gripping her throat. She swallowed again, wincing at the action.

They were far enough north after their run that they didn't need to worry about humans. Only the most adventurous ones came this far, and then by helicopter. He hadn't heard any in the area over the last few days.

He'd thought many times of what it would be like to help Bella walk into this life, with him by her side—fantasized about the things he could share with her, recalling the many joys he'd watched his family members and their mates relish. In all those fantasies, he'd never imagined himself biting his tongue to keep more barbs from flying.

"What do you smell?" he asked her tersely.

Lifting her nose, she sniffed in a series of short breaths. "I don't know, but it's . . . animal?"

"Deer," Edward supplied. There was a faint scent coming from the west.

"What do I do?" she asked.

"What do you_ feel_ like doing?" he asked. He barely kept the angry edge from his voice. God, no wonder Jasper had warned him.

She didn't answer him with words, but looked away and crouched slightly, then launched herself into a run. He followed in her silent steps, and even for all his anger was able to admire the grace with which she moved in her new body. The scents intensified, and in a few minutes, they were able to see a small herd of deer in the distance.

The clouds were moving closer, their dank grey promising rain. A few drops showered over them as they paused at a rocky outcrop. Down below were several deer nibbling on the remnants of cold, November grass.

A gust of wind pushed southward. With it came the scent of something else. He and Bella weren't the only hunters in the area after all; these had been too far away for him to hear. It was the smell of fresh-spilt blood—human blood—that reached them next.

Almost without thought, Edward tackled Bella to the ground for the second time, preparing himself for a battle he knew he was likely to lose, but one he couldn't afford not to attempt. In the fracture of a second it took to pin her down, he scrabbled for all the techniques he'd ever been taught or had to use, trying to think how best to subdue her without harming her. Without the ability to hear her thoughts, he didn't have the advantage he'd had with Esme, Rose and Emmett.

But there was no fight from Bella. Instead, her body remained curled under his, her chest convulsing, as she tried to retch up what she hadn't consumed. Her frame shuddered, as if she was ill.

"Bella?" Had he been wrong to hope all was well? Another violent shudder beneath him made him shift his arms, and help her stand.

"Help me get out of here. Please!" she said, body convulsing again, spitting out venom into the dirt.

She was ill. His sense of panic growing, he picked her up, carrying her away, scenting for other prey, trying to make sense of her reaction.

When they were a safe distance from the hunters, he asked, "Are you alright? What happened back there?"

She put up a hand. "Don't even talk about it. The smell—" She shuddered again.

Edward's mind spun. She'd smelled human blood and—

"Were those werewolves?" She asked.

She thought they'd scented _werewolves_? "No," he said, shaking his head, mind still whirling with shock.

"Then what was that? And why did it make me so sick?" Her face was strained with worry.

He blinked, still trying to grapple with what he'd witnessed. "Bella, that was human blood you smelled."

She stared at him for a moment, and then turned away, forehead wrinkled with questions. "You're certain?"

If circumstances were any different, her question would have made him laugh. His solemn response was testament to the strain his own anger—and now worry—had put upon him. "I assure you, it was human blood." _I would know_, he thought ruefully.

Her body rippled with another shiver, and her hand clutched her throat again.

Anxiety made his own chest tighten. What had he done wrong? Would she be able to hunt at all? His thoughts began to scatter in panic, and he tightened his control of his emotions. She needed to hunt. "Let's try going further north." He held out his hand, inviting her touch.

She reached out her fingers in several tentative movements, clearly nervous to make this contact. He didn't blame her. Except for his flying tackles on this hunt, there had been no touch between them . . . certainly nothing as gentle as he'd imagined for them. When their fingers touched, her body and his softened simultaneously, as if on instinct. This, at least, was right. This was the same.

But thoughts of her betrayal still clamoured to be heard, and Edward knew its sting even in this small comfort. How could she have left him as she had when they had _this_ between them?

Later, he told himself, trying to shake off his errant thoughts. Later. She needed to hunt.

"Come," he said instead, and tugged at her hand to lead her north.

They ran in silence, Edward trying to focus on their surroundings, avoiding the wrestling match that was going on between his worried questions and powerful emotions.

When the tangy scent of cougar reached him, he slowed them to a stop, drawing Bella up into the canopy of a large Douglas Fir. Pointing silently, he watched her nod, releasing her hand.

She observed the animal for the better part of a minute—a long time for a newborn. Her eyes followed its movements as it wove through the thick forest around them. Her spring was all instinct, and her bite the same. The cougar fought for its life, and Edward's own, aborted urge was to rush in to keep the clawed paws away from her. Instead, he held himself still, witnessing the messy business of dirt flying, blood splattering, and claws shredding Bella's clothes before breaking off on her skin. Edward's chest tightened, waiting on her reaction to this blood. But she drank, the relief obvious on her face, and then in the easing of her muscles.

While her reaction to human blood still worried and confused him, he knew relief, seeing that animal blood, or at least this cougar's blood, appealed to her.

When she finished with her prey, she dropped its body, standing and looking down at herself, blinking. Her shirt had been almost artfully sliced into diagonal strips, the irregular openings revealing perfected flesh beneath. The blood was everywhere, and Bella's quiet, "Ugh," was almost identical to her human utterance.

It was so_ her_, he finally let himself smile. "Don't worry, you'll learn to be neater with time." He hopped down from the canopy, approaching slowly.

She looked up at him, features guarded. As she caught his smile, the defensive set of her jaw slid away, and a worried expression lodged itself in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Edward," she said. She reached for her left hand, going to twist her wedding ring, as she did when she was anxious. Not finding it there, she looked up at him with uncertain eyes and a taut jaw.

"It's at home, waiting for you," he said quickly. "I didn't think you'd want to chance breaking it."

"Oh." Her voice, so familiar yet still so new too, sounded breathy. She looked at the empty space on her finger, and then dropped her hands, fingers still worrying each other. "I'm so sorry, Edward, because I understand now why you left me before. And I held it against you, even after I thought I'd gotten over it. But now I . . ." She paused again, glancing down before looking up at him again.

It wasn't exoneration, and it wasn't relief that Edward felt making his body feel lighter, it was . . . some feeling humanity had no word for. As he had no words now.

"I knew exactly what my leaving would do to you. How couldn't I?" Her face twisted. "But there's only so much death one person can accept on their own behalf. I was falling apart under the weight of it. Sue, my Dad, all those people missing and dead, and then Chelsea—" she took in a deep breath. "I knew there was no point in living at the cost of all those lives. How could _any_ of us live with that?" She dropped her hands to her sides, eyes nervously meeting his. "I don't expect you to forgive me for what I did. I broke your trust, but I had to do it to keep you and my children alive. And it worked."

"Barely," he said, thinking of their youngest. It had been so close.

"I know." Her teeth rested briefly in her lip, which she released, shaking her head. "It was such a quick decision, Edward. Maybe I was in denial about what it would mean for her." Her hands travelled to her now flat stomach. "I didn't feel like I had any other choice, but I knew that my death meant it would end there. I knew Josh and Mer would be safe with you. You promised you would take care of them."

That part still stung so much he couldn't help his own retort. "Yes, I did. It's just that, when you extracted my promise to never leave you, you neglected to offer me the same courtesy."

The fact that she didn't respond, nor could she seem to look at him right then, told him all he needed to know. She would do it again, if she had to.

The thought made furious flames lick up his skin. For all the parts of him that wanted to rage at her betrayal, there were others that saw the brutal logic in her choices. Even though he would always harbour regret for leaving her, he also knew that his choice had been made of the purest motivations. So had hers. He understood that. But there had been so much more at stake.

Both of their choices had led to disastrous consequences—some predictable, others not.

And yet, those choices had also brought them back to each other. A cold breeze ruffled her shirt and hair. No human shiver shook her frame, though. She was strong—stronger than him right now. She was forever.

She was his.

And he was hers.

This was the ground on which he landed: they belonged together. Everything else could be dealt with, one way or another.

Bella was now watching him cautiously again, looking for all the world like a defendant awaiting a courtroom verdict. But he was not her judge and jury, nor did he deserve to be. His next thought made him smile.

"Are we really arguing about which one of us had the greater right to martyr themselves?" he asked softly, his tone almost teasing.

She considered his question for a moment and, although she didn't smile back, she did nod slowly. "I . . . guess we are." The idea seemed to surprise her.

"I don't think I can put into words," he said, taking a step towards her, "what it meant, to have you forgive me, to accept me in your life so quickly when I returned."

"It wasn't quick, Edward. I had ten years," she said. Her stance was still wary but her tone was matter-of-fact.

He paused in his steps. "But you didn't forgive me during those ten years."

"I didn't think you were actually_ real_ then."

"So really, it was weeks between realizing what had actually happened and forgiving me."

Her eyebrows nudged together as she concentrated, remembering. "Yes."

Her memories would seem muted and fuzzy, for all the clarity around her now, but they would be true. She had forgiven him so quickly.

And he needed to return that now too.

"I forgive you, Bella," he said evenly. Reaching out his hand, for they were close enough to touch now, he lightly pinched the tips of her fingers, bringing them into his hand. "This is not in any way over and done with, but I forgive you. We need to figure out how to be together and trust one another, but I forgive you."

She shook her head. "You can't—"

"I can."

Though the same shape, her eyes were now that piercing, violent red. They watched him now. It was like being cut apart, held by that gaze.

"I love you," she whispered. "And I don't deserve you forgiving me. I've left you with a mess, and screwed things up royally for our family. I haven't even thanked you for saving me—"

"I didn't," he said. This failure stung too. "You said it before—I didn't fix anything." In hindsight, it was so easy to have a chorus of "if's" wailing in his head. If only he hadn't gone with Emmett to investigate what had turned out to be a false trail, when he knew Leah was going to be there and Alice would be blind. If only he'd worked harder to protect Bella from—everything.

"I was wrong when I said that. I'm here—and only because of you," she said. Her hands squeezed his, the grip becoming painful.

His tiny grimace made her gasp, "Sorry!"

"I'm alright, Bella." He didn't release her hands when she tried to pull away. "But changing you isn't saving you." He hated to remind her of her very good reason for resenting him. He wondered why she hadn't yet berated him for ignoring her choice. "And you said no," he said softly.

"I said _no_?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Yes. And I am so—"

"But I _wanted_ you to change me," she interrupted him, frowning, eyebrows nudging together in confusion. "I remember it. That part was so clear. I was holding Maddie, and you asked me, and—"

"Maddie?"

Bella hesitated. "Um, Madeline," she said. "It's what I think of when I think of her. But I know it wasn't even on the list so . . ." Her voice trailed off, jaw becoming tight.

He saw the sudden concern in her eyes that he would think she'd overstepped in naming their daughter without him, but it barely registered, so focused was he on the words that had come before. Instead, It was as if a tight band constricting his chest had suddenly snapped and let him breathe again. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head forward, overcome with relief. "I thought you would hate me, Bella."

"Never," she breathed. "I don't think that's even possible." Her fingers trailed firmly over his face, probably not as lightly as she wanted but she was obviously trying to be careful. "I really said no?"

He captured her fingers in his and kissed them, replaying in his mind all the ways that things could have been so disastrously different. "You did."

"I'm sorry for making you worry that I didn't want this," she said. "My memory of before that is so blurry. All I remember is that you were there and I was so scared and Maddie came . . . how long has it been?"

"Three days," he sighed. "Three very, very long days."

"And all this time, you thought I would be angry with you? Oh, Edward!" Her eyes shimmered with tears she would never be able to shed.

He exhaled, sliding his hands around her back and bringing her close. He breathed into her hair. "That—and I thought I'd been too late, or that I'd done something wrong. You didn't say or do anything the entire time. Did you not feel or sense what was happening to your body?" Remembering the pain of his own transformation, he let a shudder shiver up his spine.

Her head moved side-to-side, "No. It was just like waking up, except I woke up sensing . . . everything. It was so . . . shocking." He felt her close her eyes. Yes, it was overwhelming, but he wondered if there was something more.

"Shocking, how?" he asked, pulling back to watch her face. He strained again to hear her mind. Still nothing.

"You moved your hand, and even though I knew it was you, and that I was safe, I felt like I needed to protect myself." She shook her head, grimacing as if embarrassed.

"That's an entirely normal reaction," he assured her. "Trust is definitely something that's learned in this life. But what happened after that was definitely not expected."

"That was me, wasn't it?"

Edward nodded, worried. Not all 'gifts' were welcome ones. He knew that well enough. So far, hers had been nothing but destructive. But such things could be managed in time. She hadn't used it again on their hunt, after all, even when he'd attacked her, so most likely it could be controlled. He wasn't even sure yet if it was a defensive or offensive talent-or both. He tucked away his concerns for what such power would mean. For now, they needed to return home. There were still a lot of questions, and he could only hope that his family might help him and Bella find the answers.

"Edward?" She reached up and laid her hand against his cheek in what he assumed was meant to be a careful gesture. He tried not to chuckle, or flinch, when it landed more like a slap. "Thank you, for making me like you."

"For being selfish, you mean?" he scoffed, although his heart lightened at her words. "I couldn't let you go, Bella."

She nodded, her hand still resting on his face. "Yes, for being selfish. For loving me enough to be selfish, you stubborn, _stubborn_ man. For giving me the chance I wouldn't have had to see my children again and to love you forever."

He drew her into his arms and laid his cheek against her hair. "Forever." he whispered.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	55. Clarity

A/N for 2020-05-3: Many readers had questions about Bella's 'No' from ch. 52. If you re-read the last paragraph carefully, you'll see that her 'No' _is not an answer to Edward's question _but her acceptance of what she knows is inevitable: "she uttered the only word she had energy for, the word that held her grief for all the losses she knew her death would bring: 'No.'"

My beta and I were surprised to see so many question Bella's psychological aversion to blood. The concept comes straight from the books (blood-typing in Biology, anyone?) and has been sprinkled throughout this story: first in ch. 2 and greatly expanded upon in ch. 26 (not-so-coincidentally entitled 'Blood'). Her vampiric aversion to human blood seemed a fairly natural outcome to me.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: this story is not designed to be skimmed, and you're going to miss important stuff if you do . . . . or wind up leaving me questions, which I will happily answer if you're signed in :-)

Erin

* * *

To run as a vampire was a freedom unlike any other Bella had ever known. But it wasn't simply being able to run, it was to feel her feet fly, toes only grazing the ground, their tiny flex enough to propel her forward at speeds that would have made her ill when she was human.

She felt the small twig break under her foot, and knew its snap amongst the chorus of sounds she'd never sensed before. Everything was not just clear, but so overwhelmingly precise that it made everything from before seem fuzzy. She understood now why human memories would be so easy to let go of.

With that knowledge so evident before her, she encouraged each limping human memory that made its myopic way across her mind, nudging it along until she knew it was etched into her stronger and eternal memory.

For all the guilt that it brought, because she thought she should think of her children first, she remembered Edward and the way he'd made her feel, which led her to think of the way he made her feel now as he ran beside her, his tall frame moving so gracefully, his powerful legs leaping obstacles so effortlessly, his strong arms . . .

_Focus_, she told herself sternly.

But thoughts of Edward gave way to thoughts of Josh and Meredith. It was harder to grasp at Madeleine's tiny form. She had only seen her so briefly and the resulting memory was so blurry as to resemble a distorted roll of film, its frames disjointed by what she assumed were breaks in her consciousness.

But everything in front of her was so clear now. She followed a drop of water from a pine needle to the ground, its mates dancing down behind it as she and Edward passed by the towering tree.

"Slow down," Edward breathed, reaching out his hand and bringing them to a stop.

They were halfway down one of the mountains that slid into the northern end of the inlet, still some distance away from the city and the surrounding pockets of civilization.

"How are you doing?" Edward asked.

She knew they must be getting close to humans if he was asking that particular question.

Taking a tentative breath in, Bella let her mind flood with what should have been the silent knowledge of the subconscious—information that would be unintelligible background chatter for a human. For her, each scent was labelled with precise script, her vampiric mind indexing this information with an efficiency that boggled her.

"Fine," she said. The enticing smells were distant, and her throat only itched a little. "I just ate. I should be okay, right?"

Edward's forehead wrinkled slightly while his lips twitched briefly in a worried smile. She recognized it as his way of avoiding saying no. "I'd prefer not to take any chances. We're going to do our best to avoid having you be near any people. Our home is isolated enough, but I'll need to go ahead and listen a bit to make sure things are clear."

Things were already so clear, Bella thought, looking at the trees around them. "Sure," she said absent-mindedly. Was there anything absent-minded about this new state?

"I'll be back in under a minute—Bella?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, breaking out of her reverie and smiling at him. She was well. She was just . . . processing _everything._

"Stay here, okay?

"Yes," she said, enjoying the new viewing angle afforded her as her husband walked away, considering the way his broad shoulders rolled with each step he took and how his long back tapered down to slim hips and . . . she shook her head, trying to focus on . . . not what she had started to focus on. Again.

After watching his delectable shape disappear into the distant trees, she turned her attention back to the space around her. They'd stopped in a small copse of deciduous trees, one of few that dotted the lower reaches of the mountain's southern face. While human eyes would have only seen November's dull greys and browns in the few remaining leaves, Bella now knew the jagged and leafy remnants held their own spectrum, flaring out as beautifully and brightly as any rainbow. Her eyes traced the lace edge of one leaf, which had no less than twenty-six distinct shades of grey. Its fine veins made a pattern that was unique amongst its peers. She was still focused on this display when Edward returned.

And then she burst into what felt like tears, her eyes remaining dry.

"Bella?" Edward asked. His arms circled her tentatively.

When she was human, she would have said she was feeling overwhelmed, but she wasn't now. It was anything but being overwhelmed. "Everything is just so . . . clear," she said, feeling frustrated. It wasn't the right word.

"How is it clear?" Edward asked. He didn't sound too concerned and she could see he was still calm. He had been through this before, she reminded herself, with Esme, and Rosalie and Emmett. She wondered how he thought she was doing, compared to them.

"No, it's good," she assured him. "It's good. It's just . . . so much. I'm just realizing that I will never . . . _doubt_ myself. I could never think I was insane, seeing things this way. It's just such a relief." She waved her hand around her. "And I love you very, very much. That is so very clear, too."

Edward said nothing but he smiled his even more stunning smile. She'd called it crooked before, and now she knew it was, but its beauty was only greater for the fact that she could see it so precisely.

"They're waiting for us," Edward said, brushing the back of his hand gently over her cheek.

She shivered with pleasure.

_Focus_, she told herself again, blinking to try to clear her head. Edward's grin only widened.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked him.

"A little," he teased.

She had to ask. "Was it . . . were the others like this? Esme? Rosalie?" She felt herself folding her arms protectively around herself, preparing for an answer she wasn't sure she was ready for.

He cocked his head a little, appearing to really think about his reply. "Not ree-ally," he said, drawing out the word as if he was undecided.

"Oh." Now she was truly nervous. What was wrong with _her_? "Um, what's different?"

He reached out and laid a hand against her cheek, his eyes meeting hers in such an intense and hungry gaze that she felt herself stop breathing. "I wasn't in love with them."

She moved without conscious thought, shoving him back against the tree behind him. When her lips met his, it was the compulsion to breathe and the impulse to exist, all wrapped up in flesh that was as soft as her own. Groans and sighs erupted between their frantic kisses, as their fingers tangled in each others' hair, kneaded each other's arms, then backs, then strayed further south—

"I think," Edward gasped, pulling back. "I think we need to stop." His hands braced against Bella's body, and she realized that he wasn't just holding her back, he was quite possibly using all his strength, straining to keep her from yanking him back against her. When she loosened her hold, he actually faltered a half step.

"Ah," he breathed out, eyes several shades darker. He shook his head. "Later." It sounded more like a promise to himself.

Oh, yes, she thought. Later. Definitely. She licked her lower lip, her gaze still intently locked on him.

Edward turned aside, hands on his hips, breathing out a long breath as he stared into the forest for a moment. Turning back to her, he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Bella positively purred.

"Sorry, not taking it off for that reason." He grinned, loosening the last button and then holding the shirt open for her as he glanced pointedly at her ruined top.

Her stomach sank with disappointment but she obligingly turned her back to him

Gently, he slipped the sleeves over each arm and then drew the shirt up, buttoning it closed with his arms reaching around to her front. He kissed her jaw and then her neck, and then nipped playfully at her shoulder. "But hold that thought."

Then he turned and ran, laughing.

She followed, disappointed that he'd worn an undershirt today.

As they ran back to the Cullens' property, Bella could smell what she thought were human scents, but they were only distant suggestions. Her throat tickled, but it was just that, a tickle. She could leave it for now.

Jasper, Alice, Emmett and Rose were standing outside the house, their skin shimmering dully in the day's cloud-muted light. Their poses were casual. Alice kept an arm around Jasper's waist while she traced a semicircle over the pavement with her toe, a very human action. Rose's arms were folded as she leaned back against Emmett. But Bella knew these were only the appearance of casual stances. Her skin prickled at this vampiric assembly.

"It's just us," Jasper called, smiling at her. And while she could call it a smile, the expression was nuanced with what would have formerly been invisible wrinkles of worry, caution etched into the too-tight stretch of her brother-in-law's mouth.

It was her family, she reminded herself, against her body's itching desire to defend itself.

"But everything in your body is telling you to get ready for a fight. It's okay," Jasper said. The smile was more natural now, slightly amused.

She could have stared at the changing expressions on his face for hours, fascinated with the way she could read these subtle alterations, but a sweeping wave of calm rushed through her body, each of her muscles obeying its nudge.

She frowned. "Is that you?" she asked Jasper.

He brother-in-law nodded, smiling apologetically.

"This is bizarre," Bella said.

"Wanting to kill anyone like yourself? Yes, it is a bit much, isn't it?" Jasper said, chuckling. "Don't worry. It'll fade in time."

She looked towards Edward. No, not everyone. She had other things she wanted to do with Edward—

"You know," Edward said, his mouth twitching as if he was trying not to smirk, "It's only been a few hours, Bella. You're doing incredibly well."

"Yeah, I can imagine you are _doing_ things incredibly well, alright." Emmett snickered beside Rose, whose mouth quirked up a little in a smile. "Nice shirt, by the way."

It felt like blushing, Bella was sure. All the same muscles activated, but now there was no rising heat to go with them.

"Aww, look, we've even done the impossible and made vampire Bella blush." Emmett bent over and slapped his thigh.

As a human, she would have turned away in horror. Now her skin prickled, and it almost sounded like someone had hissed.

"I'd watch it, Emmett," Jasper said, but he did so with a smile.

Bella brought herself up short. Was that her?

Edward squeezed her hand again. "Rose tried to bite me on her first day. I think Esme threw a chair at me. You really are doing well." He smiled gently at her. "But I know you'll have questions, too."

Bella nodded, her forehead still wrinkled with focus and query. She had _so_ many questions, and they were all demanding their turn all at once. But the very biggest was the one she supposed they wanted to focus on, too. "Where is Victoria? Edward said you know."

Alice looked far too happy when she spoke up. "She's regrouping. She has just a few of her helpers left, and I can see everything she's deciding."

"They could just as easily be false leads, Alice, like before," Edward said.

"Maybe, but as you told me, the special powers Victoria was relying upon no longer exist." That grin again. Had they taken care of Murray then? Bella hadn't thought to ask.

Edward's face was full of caution. Bella could see him struggling with Alice's certain optimism.

"I know," he muttered, obviously responding to something Alice was thinking.

"That is still really annoying," Bella said, immediately pulling in a sharp breath. She hadn't meant to say it out loud, it had just—

Emmett laughed. "Oh, the filter's off! Awesome! And yes, it is stupidly annoying. What _do_ you know, bro?"

Edward grimaced in his brother's direction and then at Alice. "I don't know anything yet, and the last time we trusted Alice's vision, it was disastrous—"

"That was _not_ the last time," Alice interjected. "The last time you relied upon my sight we found Bella and destroyed over half of Victoria's helpers." She narrowed her eyes at Edward.

Bella's hackles rose as Jasper hissed at her mate, and she didn't even understand the sound she heard in reply until Edward put his hand over hers.

"It's alright," he said softly. She didn't think she imagined it when he looked a little bit pleased.

Bella pulled in a breath and looked around apologetically. It was going to take her some time to become acquainted with her new self. My word, she thought, had she really just _growled_ at Jasper? That felt positively . . . feral.

"You're right, Alice, and I will always be grateful." Edward said to his sister. His tone was far more conciliatory than before. "Still, we'd be foolish to not consider this being another of Victoria's tricks," His hand squeezed Bella's.

"It could be a feint, or it could be true. But we called the Denalis and they'll be here by this afternoon. If we all go, and they join us, we will more than outnumber her and any help she has. We've only seen the seven of them in my visions." Alice spoke earnestly but she hesitated a moment and her expression changed to one of apology. "I think one of them is . . . Charlie."

There was silence for a moment among the six of them as they absorbed Alice's revelation. Bella knew what they were thinking. How could they not? But she hadn't been able to tell them what had happened, and what her father had done for her.

It was Edward who spoke up. "There's a . . . good chance that Charlie will be an ally."

Rose eyed both Edward and Bella before speaking. "That would make things even better, but if we wait any longer, Victoria has time to regroup. This is our best chance, Edward. You'll have the most numbers now. Later, well . . . there are no guarantees either way."

And the Volturi deadline that had come and gone for Alice and Jasper was suddenly looming in Bella's mind. She'd not thought of it since waking to this new life, and now she understood, bodily, in a way that she never could have appreciated before, how wholly threatening the notion of other vampires could be. No, they were not creatures designed to cohabitate, and even standing by these people she'd known for years, Bella's skin itched to be away from them. There was more horror in being with the Volturi than came from engagement in their grisly service and the fact that their family secrets would be exposed. It was sentence enough to be in their presence without respite. Her hand went to her midsection, the idea of so many of their kind together physically sickening her.

Jasper didn't so much glance, as let his gaze wander towards her. He was being so careful around her . . . they all were. Her new eyes also noted the silent, but still obvious debate in which her husband and Alice were locked. Or perhaps they were running through strategies so Edward could watch the outcome?

Keenly aware of her own desires with respect to Victoria, and the choice she thought most obvious, Bella made herself pause to fully think through the options before them all, for her mind's capacity was a wonder she had yet to fully explore. She recalled the day she'd thought Victoria was gone. Even though it was a weaker human memory, she could almost feel the weight of that vial of ash in her hand, and how good it had felt to believe their lives free of that interminable threat. She would feel that again, she determined, and she would feel it soon.

While it was a struggle for Bella to recall the now-murky memories of her recent ordeal, one thing was clear about Victoria: she had been triumphant. Though the horrid creature might have been sly and devious with her planning, she'd positively gloated at Bella in her victory. No, Victoria had thought she'd won when Bella gave herself up. This was no feint. Bella could feel it in her gut.

"I think Alice is right," she said.

Edward stopped his silent conversation, turning his head towards her.

"Victoria is like cancer. If we leave her, she has the opportunity to spread and grow stronger again," she said quietly. "She convinced all those people to help her, and it got so many of them destroyed. Not to mention all the other people that were killed because of the vampires she made. We'd be complicit in their deaths if we don't do something about Victoria."

Edward closed his eyes. "Love, this could so easily be a trap."

"And it could not be, too. We have to try, right? We just . . . have to." She looked at him, trying to implore him with her eyes.

"I've just got you back after thinking I would lose you forever, and you're asking me to risk your safety?"

She wanted to cringe as she acknowledged his fear, considering their recent confrontation. But she just believed so strongly that this was right and she needed to convince him. "That is the absolute worst-case scenario. Let's consider the best." She realized she might have an ace in the hole she hadn't considered. "What does Alice see if we decide to go now?"

Edward's hand hadn't left hers, and somewhere in the back of her mind she understood that he was gripping it with more force than she'd ever felt before. She didn't return the pressure, worried she would hurt him in return.

He continued to study her, his amber eyes tinged with red, not moving, but speaking volumes of worry and fear with just the tiniest spark of hope. He might have been looking at her but she could tell he was 'listening', too, while Alice's eyes held that faraway look she recognized.

Alice's sudden tensing alerted Bella of his agreement before Edward's words did.

"You can't fight," he growled.

"Is that a yes?" Bella asked.

"It is, but . . . this is non-negotiable for me, Bella. You can't fight. You don't know how to yet." He was practically glaring at her. In a much softer voice, he said, "I have already promised to never leave you. Will you promise me the same now?"

In her peripheral vision, Bella saw her sisters' and brothers' tensed bodies, recalling the utter awkwardness with which she currently operated her new body. She was like a toddler wielding a butcher knife. No, she amended, an _angry_ toddler with a butcher knife. She would be a danger to them as well as to herself. "Yes. I promise. I won't fight. But we all go. I can't not—I need to be with you."

"Alright," Edward said, breathing out and turning towards Jasper and Alice. Silently, his thumb brushed over her hand, and she knew it for his renewed vow in wordless form. His gaze took in Bella's and those of his family members as he spoke. "Let's make a plan."

As they filed into the house, Alice sidled closer to Bella. "So, Maddie Elizabeth, huh?" she said, winking.

Bella was confused for only a moment until she heard Edward's soft chuckle and realized that Alice would have seen their conversation in the woods as they'd headed home. Edward had been so happy that she'd even had the chance to name their daughter that she suspected he would have agreed to anything. Still, the smile on his face when she had suggested his human mother's name be included had been everything she'd hoped for.

Inside the house, they learned that Victoria had fled to the southeastern section of the province, taking refuge in a remote, but distinctly-shaped mountain range whose peaks Edward had recognized in Alice's mind. Jasper trailed a pale finger over the lines of the map, discussing approach patterns and adjustments that would need to be made as contingencies were accounted for. Whereas she would have once struggled to hold onto so many pieces of information, Bella found herself snatching and stowing each piece, tucking it into the appropriate slot in her mind. It was like sorting books at the library, only easier. Everything had a place, and the order—

"Bella?" Edward asked.

Pulled up from the depths of her contemplation, Bella wondered when her distractedness would end. At least she wasn't fantasizing about Edward at the moment.

"I want to call Carlisle and Esme and talk to the children, too. Do you think you're up for that?"

"Yes!" The word was out before she'd even considered her response. Her children were their own gravitational force.

"You'll need to sit down and try not to move. And look very sick. We'll get you some contacts." He hesitated a moment before frowning and glancing over at Alice. "And I might need some, too. Josh is extremely perceptive."

"Contacts?" Bella asked.

"We have a ready supply," Alice said. "In case one of us slips."

"Or if one of us decides to make his human mate immortal." Emmett chimed in, deadpan. Then he added, in dramatic stage whisper, "Dude, didn't anyone ever tell you, you don't have to swallow?"

Watching Edward side-eye his brother, the red rings around his irises now more obvious to her, Bella was excited to realize she would never again miss these little family interactions that used to go over her head.

As they waited for Alice to come back with the contacts, she realized they'd have another problem with which to contend. "Edward, I sound different. There's no way—"

He shook his head. "They're young enough to accept the change. If Meredith were older, I'd say we'd have a problem, but you're their mom. They'll accept you no matter what you sound like.""

"Even Chewbaca?" Emmett called from the next room.

She snorted.

"That sounds the same," Edward murmured, a sly grin on his face, opening the box of contacts Alice handed him. "Have you ever used these before?"

She shook her head.

"Well, we have a few pairs, so you're good to experiment."

Experiment was a generous description. Three pairs in, she finally managed to insert one without accidentally shredding the thin plastic membrane but finally had to let Alice handle the other one.

"Oh God, how do you stand these?" she asked. There were squiggles, lines and distortions obscuring her vision, so many that her eyes felt like they ached just trying to focus around them.

"You'll get used to them. Try focusing past them" Edward said gently. His fingers brushed her hand, and her breath tripped over its natural rhythm as a sensation like goosebumps slid up her arm. Some things were the same. _Very the same__,_ she started thinking—

"Are you ready to call?" Edward asked, gesturing to an upholstered chair in the living room.

"Yes," she said, thinking, _As I'll ever be, I guess?_ She sat, very, very gingerly, trying not to destroy anything else in the house. Alice had already had to help her get dressed, as the first few attempts had resulted in more shredded clothing. The adjustment to this life was going to take some time.

Suitably covered in a blanket, and doing her best to look ill, Bella waited on Edward to place the call. When Carlisle picked up, he filled his father in rapidly on the latest developments, and while Bella was glad to hear his voice and to know the children were well, she was even more relieved to hear their distant chirping voices on the other end of the line. Josh's "Man!" was audible above all other background sounds.

Edward spoke to Josh and Meredith briefly, and then turned the phone to put Bella in view. He didn't relinquish hold of his phone when he came close, but did squat behind her so that they could both speak with Meredith and Josh.

Bella watched as Josh's eyes sought out Edward in the hope that his new father would understand his thoughts even through the phone. Thankfully, Meredith more than filled in the verbal gaps her brother left.

"We changed her diaper the other day!" she announced, smiling at her baby sister in Carlisle's arms. "But not when she made the big poo on the wall. Carlisle had to change his shirt after that."

Carlisle nodded solemnly, verifying this information.

"I can't say I'm sorry I missed that," Edward replied, chuckling. "But did I tell you, we picked a name?"

_She'd _picked a name. Bella glanced at Edward, still worried that this was a sensitive point but he only winked, a fleeting smile telling her that all was well."Ooh, what is it?" Meredith asked.

"Madeleine Elizabeth." Bella said, trying out her new voice with them, watching for any sign of notice from her children, but Meredith was clearly just waiting for her to continue. "We'll call her Maddie." As Edward had predicted, there seemed to be no problem for now, and her shoulders relaxed with this relief.

"Mommy, you really don't look good," Meredith announced. "You look like Edward. You aren't going outside enough."

"No, I've been very . . . sick," Bella said. She supposed there was truth to this. She had vomited earlier in the day, after all.

They talked with the children for a few minutes, both reiterating the lie that Edward had told them. Meredith and Josh seemed as well as they could be, and Bella managed to keep herself from moving when she saw Madeleine, but there were feelings inside her she could barely place.

When they finally hung up, she turned to Edward, wanting to throw her arms around him, but knowing she might hurt him in doing so. Hugging him very, very gently, she said, "They're okay."

"They're doing very well. You even got a sentence from Josh." She could hear him smiling. He was so obviously proud of Josh's progress.

She wasn't sure how long they held each other, but her eyes registered the subtle changes in the light in the room. It was time to go. There was something like excitement in her gut, tempered by fear.

"It's time," Edward said.

She was standing before she finished thinking it.

He smiled at her. "It's going to take me some time to get used to you being able to do that." He sighed. "But I meant what I said earlier. You can't fight, and when we find her, I need you to stay behind me."

"Okay," she said.

"You can't interfere." His voice was stern.

"I won't."

No humour or lightness touched his face. "Your newness makes you strong, but you haven't learned to master it, and that makes you very dangerous for us, too."

She didn't like this, but she accepted it. He would know what a newborn's limitations were. "Okay," she said again.

With a nod, he pulled at her hand, lifting his chin towards the outside. She ran hand in hand with Edward, not wanting to let go of him, binding herself to her promise to be safe, willing it to be true.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	56. Can't kill me twice

Posted 2020-05-17

* * *

Bella heard Edward roar, "Emmett!" just before her brother-in-law landed on top of her, hurling both of them to the ground. His bellowed, "Give me a hand!" to Edward was so loud as to be painful in Bella's ear.

Edward responded by leaping towards Bella and Emmett and yanking his brother off of his wife. He tossed Emmett into a small stand of trees, which exploded into a shower of crackling splinters.

Jasper stopped Emmett from a second attempt, though much more gently. He stretched out his hand to prevent his brother from moving forward, speaking a quiet and soothing, "She's fine."

Standing in front of Bella, Edward gave Emmett a brief growl.

As she reached for the hand her husband offered, Bella watched Emmett stare at her, his uncertain posture something between standing and crouching. His chest wasn't moving, and as her gaze moved around the forest space, she saw that neither were those of Jasper, Alice or Rose. They were all holding their breath.

A moment later, she realized that she was the unwise one who was not.

"Oh," she said, when the smell of humans, and then human blood reached her. "Oh, no." And then she turned back over and retched profusely into the dirt.

Edward's hands rubbed at her sides, his voice low and melodious. "It's alright. You're okay. Try to hold your breath."

Emmett seemed to have forgotten to take this advice. "Jesus. She—seriously?"

The wind brought more of the scent, and Bella steeled herself for more reaction. But the worst seemed to have passed. It was much, much fainter, and more strongly covered with that of some sort of animal blood. "Moose hunters," Edward mumbled. "Clumsy ones, apparently."

Wiping at her mouth and sucking up her mortification, Bella stood up to face the rest of her family. "Whatever the crack is, Emmett, make it now. While you have people around to keep me from ripping your head off." She'd gotten over her initial and profound emotional reaction to the blood when she'd encountered it with Edward, but he'd been only concerned and supportive. Emmett was not known for his subtlety, and her human insecurities were not so far gone that they didn't want to be felt in this new form.

Rose had also joined Bella in glaring at Emmett, and wisely, oh so unusually wisely, he looked to his wife and then back at Bella before he shook his head and said nothing.

"It makes you ill," Jasper whispered. "Physically ill. The revulsion is . . ." He swallowed hard a couple of times, clearly able to feel what Bella was feeling. "Incredible." His hand moved instinctively to his stomach and he frowned.

Alice looked at her husband with worry, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Then she turned to Edward, and he nodded.

"What?" Bella asked. She was thinking once again how these were the least favourite moments between her husband and sister-in-law.

Edward's hand squeezed hers. "It's not pleasant for you, love, but you have to admit the reaction has unique benefits in helping maintain our diet." He looked to Jasper.

Right. The memory of her eighteenth birthday traipsed fuzzily across her consciousness. Yes. She could see that. Not that she was enjoying the physical effects at the moment. She felt like she was going to vomit again.

Rose's voice broke the silence, her voice almost reverent. "You can see your children," she said. "So much sooner than we thought would be possible."

Bella's eyes widened. Of course. How stupid did she have to be not to have seen this? "I didn't even—I thought there was something wrong with me. Do you really think—?"

"Maybe," Edward said, nodding. "I think we need to test this more extensively first, but maybe."

His eyes were bright and intent on her, freshly lightened to that amber whose depths she'd never really been able to appreciate bef—

"We should go," Jasper announced. His lips twitching in a knowing smirk.

Edward frowned in his direction.

Bella decided she didn't want to know what Jasper was thinking at him. Then she felt a stab of sympathy for Edward. Did they do this to him _all the time_?

She didn't keep track of the time as they ran, but she did realize at some point that the sun was now at a completely different angle from when she'd last given it any attention. They'd traversed valleys, forest and mountain, zigzagging in their path to avoid the human populations and their roads, and were now close to their destination. Ahead of them, Alice pointed to a mountain range in the distance. It was distinct, a set of lopsided triangles against the horizon. Bella could understand why Alice and Edward would have recognized it.

At the harder points of her life, time was something she'd measured in tortured minutes and days, sometimes the two seemingly intermixed without distinction, but now time was marked simply by the arc of the sun and the presence of the man beside her. Time was theirs. And Victoria's time was almost up. She could just about taste the joy this vengeance would bring. The woman had robbed her of so many things, and Bella would relish making her pay—

"Stop," Jasper called, his voice quiet but authoritative.

They did, each person each parked in the divots their feet had made, Bella's the least elegant of all. Damn, she needed to get a handle—

"You need to find a focal point, Bella," Jasper said, not approaching, but using his voice to reach her. "The way you're feeling is dangerous."

Edward turned and looked sharply at her. "What are you thinking right now?"

"How good it's going to feel to kill Victoria." It stumbled from her lips before she could think of not saying it.

"You won't be killing Victoria. You won't be killing anyone, because you promised me you wouldn't do anything of the sort." Edward's voice was like a hammer to each word, as if he could impress them into her mind by force. His eyes glinted dangerously.

"And I won't," Bella said.

Jasper shook his head.

"I'm not going to." Her voice rose slightly.

Something passed between Jasper and Edward.

God, those silent exchanges were even more maddening now that their presence was so obvious. She watched Edward nod to his brother and then turn his gaze back on her. It was blistering.

"I promised you," she said, her voice low and level . . . and sincere. "And I meant it."

She knew his trust was not something she'd yet earned, but the thought of being left behind while they ran on, to have to wait and have her gut twist on the outcome, was unbearable. Even with such good odds—

"I trust you," Edward said, his hand reaching for hers. He sounded apologetic as he spoke. "I do, and I know you're trying to keep your promise, but I don't think you've had enough time to learn exactly what it means to be what you are."

This truth stung, even though the words were gently framed. His fingers rose to her cheek, the tips trailing lightly up and down her jaw bone. The sensation made her forget why they were standing between musky pines and the skeletons of huckleberry bushes, their scents only a compliment to the spicy and intoxicating one of the man before her, his gaze so mesmerizing that she—

Emmett's laughter, and the sound of a loud smack brought Bella up short. While she couldn't blush, her eyes still widened and the muscles of her cheeks lifted, revealing her discomfort as clearly as if her face had reddened. She realized what Edward had been doing, and she couldn't fault him for trying to help, but that didn't make her any less embarrassed. Apparently, his ability to dazzle her had not been lost to her change.

The momentary calm fled abruptly though, as bodies stiffened around her. Only Edward remained relaxed.

"It's our cousins," he said softly, and Emmett, Rose, Jasper and Alice relaxed, too. And to Bella he added quietly, "Grant is with them."

Her surprise gave way to nervousness. "You can hear him? How does he . . . sound?"

"Focused," was Edward's only reply. She didn't have time to ask for clarification.

Even with Bella's new vision, the six approaching vampires seemed to melt out of the trees. Almost all of them were unfamiliar, and as with her kind, hauntingly beautiful. She found herself holding her breath.

Grant actually looked pleased to see her, his "Bella!" the first word out of any of them. Anything else he might have been planning to say died on his lips as one of the Denali's held a protective arm in front of him, effectively keeping him from advancing. He didn't seem offended by it.

Edward took a step forward, drawing her with him, his posture just as protective. "Irina, Kate, and Tanya," he indicated with a sweep of his hand for her benefit, "and Eleazar and Carmen, this is my wife, Bella. Grant, I'm glad to see you're doing well." The two men nodded at each other.

There were kind smiles and briefly murmured pleasantries as the rest of them greeted Bella, although the one woman who had stopped Grant earlier only gave an abrupt nod. Sensing the need to allay the woman's obvious concerns, and surprised to find she might have similar ones, Bella slipped her arm around Edward's waist and waved awkwardly. "Hello."

The other Cullens had been more effusive in their greetings, Rosalie and the tall red-haired woman exchanging an obviously heart-felt hug and murmured words.

Still several people away, Grant caught her eye. "How're you doing?" He looked concerned..

Bella exhaled, imagining why he would be. She was sure everyone here had heard about her offering herself to Victoria and all that had followed. She felt Edward's arm tighten around her, although she suspected it wasn't intentional, and she saw Irina also looking at her then. "I'm good, really."

Grant nodded in reply and offered her a gentle smile. She knew they both had more to say, though it would have to come later.

For now there was an unspoken urgency which, for Bella, made her feet itch to run and her fingers to claw. She took in a deep breath and released it, catching Jasper's eye as he nodded, obviously sensing her shifting mood.

"We need to go," Edward urged the group. "We'll fill you in on the way." His eyes had darkened subtly, not in hunger, but with some stronger feeling Bella could understand all too well. They were so close to ending this.

Behind the clouds, the sun was slanting low in the sky, and Bella watched her skin glow dully as they ran. She'd thought her preoccupation would send her straight into a tree, but her mind seemed to split its attention as needed, letting her body curve around the skinny and thick trunks that made up the obstacle course through which they flew.

Ahead, Alice pointed. The mountains towards which they ran overlooked a violently blue lake, its depths green and sinister where they disappeared in the distance.

And just as suddenly, their glowing array of vampire skin was mirrored on the other side of the water, a group of vampires running, trying to gain distance by rounding the far end of the body of water. Their speed told Bella that they weren't just running, but running with purpose, clearly trying to escape. Even under the cloud-muted sun, they were glowing beacons, drawing her eyes.

The predator in Bella growled, knowing her prey was in front of her.

"Stay behind us!" Edward called back to Bella. His jaw was tight, and she slowed down, giving him and the others space to run ahead.

The bodily shapes ahead were clearer, and Bella was more sure of hair colour, and then, facial features. Bella's mouth watered as the Cullens closed the gap, her hands curling into eager fists as the distance shrunk. She was gaining ground, she was so close . . .

"Back off!" Edward shouted at her. Even though he had assured her he still couldn't read her mind, he was doing a frustratingly good job of it anyway. Bella slowed her pace—again.

When Victoria turned her fiery head and hissed in their direction, the Denalis and Cullens around Bella responded in kind as they began to spread out through the trees, surrounding her and her meager and panicked army of newborns. Bella wanted nothing so badly as to plant her teeth in the woman's neck and—

"Stop here!" Edward snapped. Bella stopped running, snarling as she did. The urges were powerful ones, but she stilled them, watching the others run past. Keeping her fisted hands beside her, and focusing on her promise to Edward, she made herself be only a witness to the violence that exploded around her. Chunks of dirt, rocks and wood flew, some obscuring her line of sight. But Bella's eyes were able to follow the two shades of red hair, one crimson, one bronze, that were central to the outcome at hand and were currently about to collide.

Then her visual trajectory was interrupted by Jasper hurtling out from almost beside her, neatly evading the forward attack of an oncoming vampire, pivoting on one foot and using his momentum to knock his opponent sideways. She watched Jasper's teeth slice into the man's neck, the screech of metal making her turn away. It felt almost instinctual to not watch that final act.

Yet her flinch only lasted a fraction of a section, her attention grabbed by Alice launching herself onto a man's shoulders. His nature didn't allow for him to be clumsy, but he almost looked it as he took two tumbling steps under the top-heavy weight while Alice's hands gripped his head on both sides and began to twist. His last staggering step was involuntary, and this time Bella watched the head bounce on the ground, mud splattering over it before a flame that seemed to come out of nowhere made it disappear in a swirl of smoke.

With their experienced force both outnumbering and outfighting Victoria's defenders, the battlefield was rapidly clearing. As Grant and Irina together dispatched one of the last of them, Bella returned her focus to where she'd last seen Edward and Victoria dancing in the distance—and her breath caught. It wasn't just the two of them facing off. Victoria's arms made a vicious and deathly vice around Bella's father's head. She was using Charlie as a shield.

As the Cullens and their cousins dispensed with Victoria's helpers, they spread themselves around the trio, whose movements were more and more curtailed by this tightening circle.

Bella didn't need to hear Victoria's words to know the threat she'd made—and was probably still making silently, if the rage and frustration on her husband's face was any indication. He was obviously looking for an opening, but the lethal hold Victoria had on Charlie was too easily deployed for Edward to take a chance. Killing Victoria would mean killing Bella's father.

"Do it, Edward!" Charlie yelled. "The bitch can't kill me twice! Do it!"

She could tell the moment Edward made his decision and she saw him nod at Charlie as if they had come to some understanding. Then, he planted his foot in preparation to launch himself and in the same moment, Bella watched Victoria's fingers tighten over Charlie's forehead as she began to twist.

She couldn't stand it. She could not watch this creature take one more person from her, definitely not her _father_, nor could she watch Edward be the catalyst for Charlie's destruction. Unable to tear her eyes from the scene, all she could think was that she wanted to block all of it out—push away the images before her and make it all stop. In desperation, she flung her hands out in front of her, all of her terror and helpless fury channelling themselves into her horrified "NO!"

It was so quick, she would have doubted herself seeing it in human form, but the entire assembly of vampires before her flew backwards, slamming to the ground, scattered about the clearing like so many bowling pins. Bella gasped in disbelief.

Edward and Jasper scrambled to their feet first, snake-like in their reflexes as Edward reached for Victoria and Jasper snatched at Charlie. No sooner had they wrenched the two apart when a series of eerie creaks and crackling groans splintered the air, making them all look up in time to see the surrounding trees begin a slow descent, increasing in speed as, one by one, they followed their inexorable trajectories to the forest floor. The deafening whooshes, thumps, and booms caused everyone in the clearing to scramble out of the way—all except Edward and his captive, left standing in the center of the chaos. He held Victoria by the neck from behind, both of them frozen in place, both of them staring at Bella.

Victoria's eyes widened in apparent disbelief, and then narrowed in fury. "No!" she screamed. "She should be dead!" Her snarled words choked off as Edward tightened his hold around her neck, his other hand gripping her hair, keeping her head immobile. He leaned in, his lips by her ear. It was a deceptively intimate gesture, but his fierce whisper travelled across the clearing.

"She's immortal. You'll never touch her again."

And Bella could see it then, the rage in Victoria's eyes giving way to resignation, letting them all see that she believed him. Her vindictive terror spree was over, and there was no escape for her. Her next words were choked out as a strangled, pathetic whimper. "He was my mate."

"And she's _mine_." Edward's vengeance played out with a directness that left Bella blinking at what she'd just witnessed. But as he dropped Victoria's head to the ground and kicked it away from her body, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and called, "Bella?" He held out the small item in his palm, a tentative offering.

She felt like she was trembling, even though she knew she wasn't. Her steps were dream-like, carrying her over a surreal landscape of ash, splinters and minor craters of mud. She might as well have been traversing the moon, it was so other-worldly. Was this really happening? The lighter looked smooth, but the imperfections in its surface were betrayed by the knowing skin on her hands. She hesitated, holding it over the broken body of the woman who had tormented them all for so long.

"Do you want me to—?" Edward asked. He sounded so uncertain, and when she looked at him, she could see the conflict in his eyes. He probably thought he was asking too much of her.

"No, I want to," she said. "I just need to make sure it's . . . real." She flicked the lighter top open carefully, activating the flint and watching the flame spark and take hold. It flickered in the tiny breeze, and as she watched it, her mind supplied a ghastly lineup of all the lives she knew that Victoria had taken. The flame dropped from her hand and took root in the body below.

Edward yanked Bella back from the blaze, his arms tight around her, his breath in her hair.

Vampire bodies burned quickly. Victoria's was no exception, and as she and Edward witnessed its final and indisputable dissolution into ash, they did so silently. There were no words worth marking Victoria's ending, and as Bella finally looked up and forward, it was to find part of her future staring back at her in apparent disbelief.

"Oh my God, Dad!" She threw her arms around him, remembering at the last moment that she could hurt him, then realizing that he was probably the only one in attendance she couldn't really hurt right now. The thought was both relieving and sobering. Her father's face contorted with emotion, his arms returning the gesture. "Bella." They held each other fiercely for a long moment.

"You're okay," Charlie breathed. "Oh, God, Bella, she told me you were—"

"It's okay, I'm okay," she said, touching his face. He was here. He was _alive_. Well, as alive as she was . . . and she'd never felt more so, she realized.

"And . . . the baby?" he asked hesitantly.

"She's fine," Bella assured him. "Edward got there in time." She smiled briefly at her husband over Charlie's shoulder. "Dad, She's beautiful. We're calling her Madeleine. Maddy for short."

Charlie's hand went to his throat, and for a moment, Bella couldn't tell if it was in emotion or thirst but his confusion was almost tangible. He shook his head. "I, uh . . . "

"C'mon Charlie," Emmett said, coming up and slapping his hand on Charlie's back. "Let me take you hunting."

Charlie, whose eyes, Bella saw, were almost black, shook his head again, his face crinkling in pain. "No, I can't. I don't know what you or we are, but I can't do that again, not after what she made me do—"

"It's okay," Emmett said much more gently, his hand still on Charlie's back. "We're not hunting people. But we can probably find us some deer, or even a bear, if they're not hibernating yet."

"A bear?" Charlie blinked at him in disbelief.

"We'll explain," Jasper said gently. He glanced pointedly at Edward and Bella. "There's . . . a lot to explain."

Bella found herself nodding, grateful for Jasper's offer. Yes, there was. There was going to be so much to talk over with her dad. But . . . she took another glance at the destruction around her and drew in a long, unnecessary breath. There was going to be a lot to talk about, period. She reached out to Edward, grabbing his hand with hers, knowing from his pained expression that she was squeezing too hard but not letting go because she needed an anchor. What had happened? What had she just done?

"It's okay, Bella. I've got you," Edward murmured.

"Let's go," Jasper said. He pointed out the direction for Charlie's benefit, briefly turning towards Edward, a question in his eyes.

"We'll join you in a bit," Edward told him.

"Where are we going?" Bella asked.

"Home." Edward smiled. "To Alaska."

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	57. Aftermath

A/N for 2020-05-24: Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for the gift of her (as usual) excellent mind on this story, and on this chapter, too. We're coming to the end. I'm guessing there will be something like sixty-two chapters with an epilogue, possibly a tiny bit more.

Happy reading :-)

Erin

* * *

The others went ahead, leaving Edward and Bella standing alone together, making a final surveillance of the battlefield. While the group had spread the ashes of their fallen enemies, disguising the final remains, there was little to be done for the other, much more noticeable damage Bella had inflicted on the landscape.

She stared at the flattened wake of trees. As a child, she and Charlie had visited the Mt. St. Helens site, where similar damage had been documented, and in parts, could still be seen. The aftermath of what had happened, what she was just accepting that _she _must have done, was eerily similar.

She blinked at the landscape. This was _her._ She was like a . . . volcano.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked.

She didn't say anything for a moment, still indexing what her eyes were telling her. What she'd just experienced. Victoria was dead. Her father was _alive._

And she'd just blown up a forest.

But her dad was okay. He was here. They were okay. They were all okay. They would get to live their lives.

"Yeah," she breathed out, realizing she didn't need to inhale again. She blinked. She didn't need to do that either.

Looking at her hands, she turned them over, wondering what it would take to summon again the power she had so obviously wielded.

"You'll learn to control it, Bella," Edward said.

Would she? He hadn't. "You can't control _your_ gift."

"I can't make it go away, but I've learned to manage it, utilize it. Each gift is unique."

Bella looked around them again. It didn't feel much like a gift. It had saved her father yes, but what if—what if it happened when she got angry with one of her family members? Oh God, what about the children? Her mind spun ugly possibilities.

And then she burst into a manic sort of laughter that was half frantic tears, half hilarity at the absurdity of what she was thinking.

"What?" Edward asked.

The spasms in her muscles kept her speechless, and she shook her head, waiting until the episode passed.

"What?" Edward asked again. His face was taut with concern.

She had to remind herself that it had only been hours ago that he had been very, very worried about her, and thought that he'd done something wrong in her transformation. It was also not so long ago that the world thought she was utterly insane.

"Crop circles," she said, and then giggled nervously as she awaited his response.

Edward's eyebrows rose as his forehead wrinkled, clearly not reassured by her behaviour or words.

She gestured around herself to the flattened forest and small craters her 'gift' had left. "I always wondered where crop circles came from. And then I looked at what I did, and—somewhere there's probably a vampire whose gift is like mine and they're making crop circles." She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

Whether relieved or amused, she wasn't sure which, Edward smiled and chuckled a little, his hand taking hers. "It's as good an explanation as any."

Her body calmed itself at his touch. It was just the two of them, standing, surveying the minor wasteland she'd created. It would take days—no, weeks—of human labour to clear it and replant. But that thought drifted away, the physical anchoring of Edward's touch eliminating all humour, speculation and worry.

She rubbed each of his fingers gently between her thumb and forefinger, then moved this pressure up his hand, her eyes on his face, making sure her touch was just right. Yes. It was. She brought both hands to his forearms and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Yes, that was familiar too. But when his hands slid around her back and down past her waist—oh, that was new. Absent was the hesitation she'd always sensed from him in their physical interactions. Absent were the tenuous touches and the anxious glances assessing her responses for signs of discomfort. Those were hers now. But only for now, she reminded herself with relief. Because the idea of having to be this careful forever was just not acceptable. How had Edward ever managed it?

"Wait," Edward said, when her fingers reached for the collar of his shirt. He chuckled. "Maybe I'll do that part for now. I don't want us to arrive naked in Alaska."

If the tightly-wound tension between them left any room for it, Bella would have laughed. Instead, she released her grip and held her hands up in mock surrender. "Please," she said, then bit her lower lip.

Yes. His eyes did darken with more than hunger, and now she knew she could watch the pigment as it fled, given the right conditions.

She realized, not much later, that the additional damage to the forest floor was unnoticeable amidst the destruction her power had already wrought. The body-shaped divots and trenches were almost artistic in placement, Bella mused.

She was also pleased to discover that she wasn't the only one made clumsy by urgent and pent-up desire, as she fingered the place on her jeans where a button used to exist.

Edward, at least, looked a bit surprised at himself, if not slightly embarrassed.

It was a long run north, and it would have been much longer if Bella could have had her way. The pull towards Edward was so strong, resulting in another brief interlude, that running was most definitely a secondary concern. To add to the difficulty for Bella, the desire to stop and observe absolutely _everything_ was almost as great.

"Let's try to catch up with them," Edward had encouraged her. Repeatedly. Finally, near Tulsequah, he decided to take control of the situation, "Your Dad was quite anxious, Bella. He'll do better with you nearby." And while she was fast, she was still nowhere near as fast as Edward, so when he added. "Want a ride?" she giggled, but accepted, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she'd done before when she was young. It was a testament to his self-control that he didn't stop even when she buried her nose in his neck to inhale his scent or tangled her fingers in his hair while he ran, but Bella couldn't help feeling smug when he stumbled distractedly once or twice.

They caught up with the other Cullens and the Denalis just as the night cloud-cover was disappearing, revealing a setting moon. On her own two feet again, Bella joined Charlie as they all paused, Jasper excusing himself with the announcement that he needed to hunt.

Bella eyed her brother-in-law, noting his light eyes, wondering why he would say so. Perhaps he thought she needed to? Her hand at her throat, she considered how she felt. Fine, really. There was a dull tickle there, but nothing like the brutal fire she'd had when she first awoke. Edward had insisted that they hunt again on the way here, which had been the catalyst for yet another enjoyable encounter between the two of them.

No, there was really only one need that she couldn't seem to satiate right now. She glanced at Edward and saw the corner of his mouth curl in a knowing smirk. Damn him. Who needed mind-reading when he could _scent _how much she wanted him, she thought wryly. She shook her head, trying to keep her thoughts decent. Her father was beside her. And that's when she saw that Edward was looking at Charlie. With worry.

Did _Charlie_ need to hunt? Why wouldn't Edward or Jasper just ask him? And why hadn't the guys taken him on the way like they'd promised?

"Have you seen the lake?" Edward asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Sorry, what?" Bella asked, trying to follow.

"Just over here," Edward said, not taking her hand, but pointing so that Charlie's gaze followed as well. Edward waved his hand to indicate that they should move that way.

The trio walked a few steps to the east, where, peering from the just the right angle, they could see a glassy lake illuminated by the light of the nearly full moon. The still water perfectly reflected the orb back at itself.

"It's beautiful," Bella breathed. Like a magnet, her hand reached back to find Edward's.

Beside her, Charlie watched, too.

"What can you see?" Edward asked Bella, "That you couldn't see before?"

"So much," she whispered. "It's so bright and clear—was it always that bright? Or is it just—?" she waved her hand up and down herself. "Is it this?"

Edward chuckled. "Sunlight is bright, even when it's reflected off the moon." She felt him shrug. "But I doubt you would have seen anything like this as a human. You wouldn't have been this far from civilization and other light sources. And this is a particularly good spot to admire it in." He pulled her back towards him, planting what would have been a chaste kiss on top of her head, if she were human. Her vampire body's response was in no way chaste.

A ways away, she heard the others in their party chuckle as Emmett mumbled something about "Being here all night."

Beside her, Charlie cleared his throat.

She felt Edward ease himself away from her and she looked down at her hands, trying to focus on something besides him. And as she looked, she saw the dull fracturing of light on her hands. It was very, very faint, and she understood that it would only be visible to her kind, but it was visible enough. She held out her hand, watching it glint dully. Beside her, Charlie did the same, but tentatively, a strange expression on his face.

"Bet you never thought you'd sparkle like a glitter ball, huh, Dad?"

"No," Charlie breathed out, but not in humour, almost in . . . relief.

"Are you three ready to go?" Jasper called out. He'd hunted quickly then, Bella surmised, but try as she might, she could scent nothing on him that would indicate he had. What was going on?

"I think so," Edward said with one more glance at Charlie. There was clearly more communication between the brothers. Her gut tightened with worry.

But Edward smiled at her gently. "We can call the kids in the morning if we hurry."

She watched Charlie's head tip down from where he'd been gazing at the sky. "Where are they?" he asked.

"They're with Carlisle and Esme-in Alaska.," Bella replied.

"But we're not going to be anywhere near them, right?"

"No," she assured him, glancing at Edward to see his nod of confirmation. "We can only see them online for now. We talked to them yesterday afternoon."

Charlie exhaled, nodding almost to himself. "Good. Good."

While Bella could see there was definitely something up with her Dad, she had to trust that Edward would tell her if it was something dire. She looked at Edward now, a question in her eyes, but he gave her only a minute shake of his head in response. Whatever it was could wait, then. She tried to let that be enough.

As they ran north again, Bella noticed that Tanya continued to flank her father's left side, while she and Edward ran on his right. She didn't like how close Tanya stayed to him, but she kept her feelings in check. Charlie was a newborn. She was a newborn. These were much older vampires, and they were only trying to keep them all safe. Or, rather, the humans around them safe. Perhaps Tanya had gifts that allowed her to sense such needs? But as much as she attempted to extend the woman credit, Bella struggled, feeling more and more protective of her father.

The group paused, Emmett and Rose running ahead to ensure the way was clear for the newborns in the group.

Bella's focus on Tanya and her father was so great that when Eleazar called her name, she felt miles away, turning her head in what seemed to be a very slow reply. "Sorry, yes?"

Eleazar smiled gently. Or maybe it was a smirk. It was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure she was the vampire equivalent of a space cadet. It was much akin to being a substitute teacher she thought, focus needing to be everywhere all at once.

"Your shield is most impressive," Eleazar said. "Very powerful."

"My what?" Bella asked, still feeling several steps behind in this conversation.

"Your gift," Edward said, coming up behind her, sliding his arm around her waist. Oh. That felt—

Eleazar cleared his throat, and her attention snapped back to him.

"Eleazar is gifted himself," Edward explained. "He can see peoples' talents when they've been changed, which made him a very valued part of the guard."

"The guard? As in _the_ guard?" She asked.

"It was some time ago, but yes. We parted on good terms," Eleazar said. "But your gift. It is unusual. Most gifts are either passive or active, but yours . . ." He shook his head. "It appears to be both."

"So, um, you called it a shield. What does that mean, exactly?" Bella asked, because so far, all she could tell was that it did a really good job of destroying things.

"With shields, there is always a protective element but as to the rest, that I can't say yet. I can tell you it is very, very powerful. We can explore later, though." That smile again—no, smirk, Bella decided. "You are yet young. There are other things you need to attend to."

She was trying very hard not to show just how much she wanted to attend to those things—especially that one thing—to which he alluded, but damn. Edward was right there. And he was—she took in a breath and then released it quickly, realizing that inhaling his scent right then was even more distracting. She was grateful they needed to continue their run northwards so she could avoid further embarrassing herself.

When their group split into two, it was so that Rose, Emmett, and Alice could go North to the Cullens' home near Fairbanks, and the remainder would head West to the Denali's home, located deep in the sprawling park. Bella wasn't exactly surprised that Jasper was staying with them. He was the expert on handling newborns after all, but it didn't make Bella feel any better about what might be going on with her dad.

"Please give them all a hug from me and tell them that I love them so much," Bella said to Alice as she hugged her, and then Rose. She was pleased that neither of them flinched when she did so. When she got to Emmett, she punched him playfully on the arm. "Don't break my kids, okay?"

Emmett grinned just as playfully and pretended to stagger backward as he said, "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry!" Bella gasped, pulling back immediately.

"Just kidding," Emmett said. He winked and then ran.

"Wise man," Edward quipped, watching Emmett's disappearing form.

"Oh, nice," she said, wanting to playfully smack Edward then, but holding back. She really hoped she hadn't hurt Emmett. Then again, hadn't she watched Edward throw him into a tree just that morning? She really needed to get used to this.

When they reached the Denali's home, Bella's eyes widened, as did Charlie's.

"That's not a house," Charlie observed.

"I suppose not," Tanya said, a few steps away. A few steps closer than she'd been a moment before.

Bella's eyes wanted to narrow at this.

"It was an abandoned resort project, which we bought when the financing fell through. It took some string-pulling, but we were able to get the site permitted as a private residence. It's built like a resort, but that's pretty handy when you want some space or privacy from your siblings." She smiled in a way that made Bella feel even more protective of her father. To Bella's eyes, Tanya looked at him like he was a meal.

"Charlie, I think we can find you some fresh clothes to wear," Carmen said softly, a gentle hand on his arm.

"Thank you," Charlie said. "That would be good."

"Tanya, maybe you can show Charlie where he can get cleaned up?"

Bella growled. It wasn't intentional, it simply was.

Tanya crouched defensively and returned the sound.

Without thought, and without even the blessing of a second, Bella had Tanya pinned to the snowy ground.

"Bella!" both her husband and father called.

She sprang off of Tanya and back a body length, her hand to her mouth in horror. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

"It's alright," Tanya said, standing with Kate's help, dusting her rear off. "It's um, early days, I can see." She glanced at Charlie and Bella. "It's very rare to have a parent in this life. You're very fortunate, and very right to be protective."

Where Carmen and Eleazar had worn suppressed smiles, their faces were sombre now, as were those of Kate and Tanya and Irina. Bella didn't have to do much thinking to see that some deep hurt lingered here.

"I'll show you all where you can stay," Tanya said, gesturing that Bella, Charlie and Edward should go ahead of her.

Charlie spoke up, before anyone could follow Tanya. "I think that Edward and I need to have a few words."

"Of course," Edward said, polite as ever.

"In private," Charlie clarified. To Bella, he sounded . . . he sounded just like her dad. Like when she was young.

She opened her mouth, ready to say she would join them, but Charlie held up his hand in her direction. "Alone." Then he turned to face her, his tone softening. "You and I can talk later."

\- 0 -

Edward led Charlie through the forest and down into a small ravine, where a thin little creek ran its course under thicker ice. The ravine was capped by a thick and high canopy of mossy coniferous trees, protecting it from the great weight of snow that silenced the open ground beyond it.

Charlie liked the smell. It reminded him of home, and as Edward listened to his thoughts, he could hear Charlie wondering if Edward's choice in bringing him to this place had been deliberate for that reason—if he was trying to soften him up before Charlie asked several pointed questions. Even after Emmett and Jasper had given Charlie the barest of explanations about his new form and what it would mean, he was clearly overwhelmed.

The way it was looking, Edward might have more questions for Charlie than his father-in-law had for him, given what else he'd heard in his thoughts. The man seemed to be on a most troubling personal mission.

At the moment, though, he wanted to reassure Charlie that they were alone. "The depth of this ravine keeps most sound from travelling. No one will be able to hear us," Edward said, standing on the edge of the creek and deliberately facing away from his father-in-law, letting him gather his thoughts. "It's private here."

Edward heard Charlie wonder how he could know that, and decided it was time to reveal his own, very invasive gift.

"I know it's private, because I've been here before when I've visited our cousins," he said, responding to Charlie's unasked question.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Charlie's head snap up to look at him.

"I can also hear your thoughts." Edward turned to face him. "I can hear everyone's thoughts."

As a man used to concealing his feelings, Charlie's expression and thoughts were disparate, one placidly doubtful, one . . . well. At least he hadn't said it out loud.

"I've given you plenty of cause to have that opinion of me," Edward said. "It's nothing I haven't thought about myself at one time. And believe me, it's not my intention to intrude on your privacy. It's something I can't really turn off, as much as I wish I could."

Charlie stared, his eyes openly questioning Edward's claim. Then he narrowed them shrewdly and his next question to Edward was delivered silently. _Is it just us you can hear? _Charlie gestured to himself, his face twisting with obvious revulsion for what he had become, and then returned his challenging gaze to Edward.

"No, I can hear everyone. That is, except for Bella."

Ah. Now Charlie believed him. His face showed his sudden worry.

"Why? Is something wrong with her?" he asked aloud.

"No," Edward said, the memory of Bella's identical question all those years ago making him smile a little. "But she asked exactly the same thing when I told her I could read peoples' minds. At the time, I thought it incredibly generous of her, to think that _she _was the odd one."

Charlie let out a breath. For all his newborn vampire qualities, he still had one foot planted in human ideas, breathing included.

Edward wished that something as simple as deep breathing could calm the man, for Charlie was beyond agitated. Edward was himself still stirred up by their victory over Victoria, needing his own grounding, his activity with Bella on the way here notwithstanding. This was no time to make light of anything, not with a new vampire in front of him. The fact that Charlie had barely given a thought to the ramifications of Edward's mind-reading ability told him this.

"So she's okay? She hasn't . . ." Charlie looked so pained by the image of a red-eyed Bella in his head.

Edward spoke softly, and in a way he hoped would reassure him. "She hasn't hurt anyone. I've been with her every minute. We wouldn't let that happen, and, well . . . when she did encounter human blood, it made her . . . ill."

Charlie stared. "Ill? Like when—"

"Like when she was human, yes."

"Thank God," Charlie whispered. He closed his eyes.

The sudden flood of images from his father-in-law that stemmed from Charlie's time with Victoria nearly knocked Edward over, they were so horrific. It gave him pause, considering their force . . . strangely similar to the way that Josh could shove thoughts his way. While the trajectory of Charlie's thinking had shifted, it had not altered so much as to reassure Edward that the man would not pursue the plans that he had heard from him a few minutes before, nor did it stop the litany of self-flagellation in Charlie's mind.

"You are not a monster, Charlie." Edward said softly. "You were in horrible circumstances when you were turned. Of course you reacted with instinct. Any of us would have, in your place." He needed to make him understand just how different his beginning had been. "What Victoria did—what she told you . . ."

"Who was she to you? And why did she do this to us?" Charlie's face was taut as he interrupted.

Edward regarded his father-in-law carefully. If he was intent on answers, it meant he was less intent on his other ideation. He was happy to hear him asking questions—although less comfortable with having to answer them. "She's wanted to hurt me for a very long time. And when she couldn't get to me, she went after Bella and the people she loved. She knew that the only way to destroy me was to take Bella from me. She was very nearly successful." He thought of how he'd found Bella, on the verge of death, and mentally shuddered.

"How long has she been after you?" The shrewdness in Charlie's voice and thoughts were one, his distress still shoved to the back of his mind.

"Since I killed Victoria's mate, James." Hearing the next question in his father-in-law's thoughts, he continued before Charlie could interrupt him again. "When Bella left you to go to Phoenix, it wasn't because we'd had a fight. It was because James was trying to kill her, and he came very close to doing it."

"She didn't fall down a flight of stairs."

"No," Edward said.

"What else have you lied about?"

This was the Charlie Swan he'd known. The very methodical, protective Charlie Swan. The cop. He was still there, and if Edward had been human, he would have exhaled in relief. The man's early days as a vampire had been so traumatic, he'd feared for the forming of his new mind. After having watched Rose struggle so much—

"What else?" Charlie pressed.

Edward hesitated. What else had he lied about? Where should he start when there was so much from which to choose?

"I'm guessing it wasn't because of your father's job change when you left Forks."

"No." Though he knew he was forgiven for doing so, his chest ached to even recall that self-inflicted parting. "I left to protect her from my kind—from this life."

"Why _then?_ You certainly stayed around after that _monster_ tried to kill her." Very clearly, Charlie did not just think of James as a monster. Edward and Charlie himself were included in that category, too.

Why indeed? "I loved her, and I kept telling myself that we would find a way forward. It was only when one of my . . . someone close to me attacked her, that I saw the truth."

Charlie stared again at Edward but his own self-disgust still warped all his thinking. "And after all that time, you came back? Why?"

"Because we saw that Victoria was going after Bella again."

"You saw?" Charlie asked.

"My sister Alice is prescient."

Charlie mumbled something like 'holy fuck', then laughed in a very, very nervous way, the sound making the few birds on the tree tops scatter. "If she can see the future, then—"

"She can't see the entire future. She only sees the outcomes of choices, sometimes, with some people. It isn't precise, and it isn't reliable." He thought of the wolves. He should at least tell Charlie about them, but not yet. One thing at a time.

"So you came back because?"

"Victoria intended to turn Bella and have her kill her own children."

Charlie studied him, blinked, and then breathed out an, "Oh." His forgiveness for Edward was clear in his mind.

"Victoria also caused the car accident that killed Bella's husb . . . that killed Matt." It seemed too dismissive not to say the name of the man who had fathered his children.

"Damn." Charlie said softly, shaking his head. "So, that was when you came back to protect her."

"Yes."

Charlie nodded, turning, beginning to pace. His thinking mind was a frail thing at the moment, and it was struggling with his already-fading human memories. "So when I came to see you, you weren't blowing smoke up my ass about doing what was best for her."

"I was not."

Charlie jabbed a finger in Edward's direction, prodding the air, "You're not off the hook, and I still have questions."

"Of course." So long as they kept talking. So long as Charlie didn't do what he was thinking about doing. "You haven't asked about Jacob."

"And what the hell do I need to know about Jacob?"

Edward explained as simply as he could, trying not to overburden Charlie but needing him to have this information for the rest of this conversation. The treaty was now a moot point with Charlie's new state.

Still, it was this explanation that made Charlie finally sit, dropping his backside into the snow like his legs could no longer support him, as he dealt with the realization that his daughter had never, ever been insane. "When I began to suspect what I was, after . . . I wondered about her stories, but the werewolves, I thought they weren't real." His next thought caught him off guard and he looked up at Edward. "Sue?"

"She knew," Edward answered, knowing how much this next part would sting. "Her children are werewolves."

Charlie looked away again, processing this information and struggling with it. "She didn't tell me. Why wouldn't she tell me?"

Edward sighed. "She couldn't say anything without endangering her tribe. That was mostly Sam's fault, though. He would have taken it out on her children."

This last part was dangerously close to the edge of truth. It had only been a flicker of a thought on Sam's part, but given the man's odious attitude, Edward didn't doubt it was more true than he wanted to believe.

Charlie's head turned back and forth in a slow denial. His voice almost broke with emotion. "Was any of it true? Did she even love me?"

Had he been wrong to share this? Charlie's other thoughts were nudging toward the forefront of his mind. Edward wasn't convinced Charlie's last question had been for him but he knew the answer. "Yes, she did love you. She struggled with her decision, and she wanted to tell you." Edward could give him that, at least.

Charlie stopped asking questions for a while, at least aloud. Edward gave him his silence as his father-in-law sorted through what he wanted to know.

"Did she . . . was it Victoria that killed her?"

"Yes."

Charlie's hands pressed together, as if in prayer, and his eyes closed.

And while it was a prayer that Charlie was making, it was the ugly kind with which Edward was so very, very intimately familiar. He watched Bella's father lift his hands to cover his face.

"No," Edward said. He'd let this go far enough. The suicidal ideation was becoming precise. Very precise. And Charlie Swan had picked his method very, very carefully.

"It is selfish as a human, and it is even more selfish as one of our kind, what you propose to do." Edward's features felt hard with anger. What was this, a Swan family trait? There was altruism and self-sacrifice and then, there was _this_. If it didn't stab him with guilt to even entertain it, the notion that Bella was perhaps more unwell than he thought, might have taken root in his mind.

"She's safe. The children are safe." Charlie mumbled from behind his hands. His body was trembling with emotion. Edward caught a flash of annoyance from him as his father-in-law realized that he was not keeping any of this from Edward's ability, but Charlie quickly resigned himself. "I'm not. I'm not safe. If you can hear what I'm thinking then you know what I've done."

Edward's heart ached with empathy. "What most of us have done. Almost everyone in my family carries some burden like this, through choice or accident, or both. There is life beyond this. You have your daughter, your grandchildren."

But Edward's words might as well have been the unhindered water in the creek flowing past them. There were images to go with the thoughts. A location, a hold to the neck, threats and promises, teeth pressed to where there could be no mistake of intent. And Grant—his newborn instincts and strength would guarantee Charlie the outcome he so desperately wanted.

"Charlie, after you were taken, Bella was barely functioning and unable to care for her children. Do you want to do that to her again?"

Charlie closed his eyes, and the images began to fade, replaced by murky memories of Bella when Edward had left. But was it enough? Edward braced himself before he drew out his precisely chosen words—weapons of last resort.

"Victoria didn't abduct Bella, Charlie. Your daughter gave herself up to Victoria—herself and her child—because she thought there was a chance of rescuing you." It was at least one of the reasons, so it was true enough. "Because of that choice, she and Maddie nearly died . . . and I had to make Bella like us to save her. Will you let her sacrifice mean _nothing_?"

He heard Charlie inhale sharply. He was beginning to understand.

"You'll kill her, if you try to harm yourself." Edward continued, voice still firm. "She may not be physically gone, but that won't matter. Believe me, I know this. I . . . know it from both sides."

Charlie remained still, arms now hugging his knees. "I can't live with myself if I take another life, Edward."

"Then don't," Edward said gently, kneeling down beside him. "We'll all help you, but I believe you are stronger than you know."

Charlie made a scoffing sound. "Strong? I wasn't strong when she put that . . . woman in front of me."

Edward waited for the image in Charlie's head to fade before he spoke again. It appeared to him that the woman, and probably the others he had seen in Charlie's memories, had already been dead, or near enough, when Victoria had dropped them in front of him. but he could see why it would still haunt the man. They had still died on his behalf.

"Bella tells me that when you saw her in the cabin, she was bleeding. And yet, you shook off your guards and ran away. Is that what happened?"

Charlie nodded, remembering the event more clearly than Bella had. It made Edward grit his teeth now that he was reliving it with him, but he forced himself back to the present. Victoria had already paid. "Yes."

"You have no idea," Edward assured him, "how few newborns would be able to do that. You saved your daughter's life, and her child's. Don't tell me that you're not strong."

He could hear Charlie processing his words, wondering if Edward was being honest, considering for himself what he had been able to do. He was wavering in the face of this different view of himself.

"Charlie." Edward's voice was as gentle as he could make it. Bella's father turned to look at him as he continued. "You can't think what you're thinking. You can't think about suicide. It's . . ." He thought about how best to explain how instinct worked for his kind.

"I know." Again, Charlie's thought seemed to nudge its way into Edward's mind. Yes. He understood. Thoughts could become actions in the blink of an eye.

"Here," Edward said, pulling out his phone and finding the latest pictures of Josh and Meredith, and then of Madeline.

"God, she looks just like Bella did as a baby." Charlie's fingertip traced the curve of Maddie's cheek. Edward marvelled again at how much fine control he was already showing.

"And she will very likely look a great deal more like her mother as she grows, which we want you to see."

Charlie's other thoughts were fading, only echoes of possibilities. His mind remained weary, and his hope was brittle, but there was a low flame of it flickering in the dark. Now his newborn sense of unease was showing itself again, his instinct to move and to distance himself from another vampire coming to the fore. "Bella will be missing you," Charlie said.

"So long as Bella never has to miss you." Edward met his gaze, standing and holding out his hand, waiting for Charlie to accept his offer of help. He was pleased when Charlie returned his grasp.

"You told me once," Edward said, pulling Charlie to his feet, "that you would do everything you could to keep me from hurting your daughter. I will return that promise to you now. I'm asking you to give me your word you'll do whatever it takes to keep from hurting her, too."

Charlie nodded solemnly. "Alright, Edward."

With this seal on their agreement, Edward finally gave himself over to the force pulling on him like an invisible cord, drawing him inexorably back to the woman he loved.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	58. To whom much has been given

Edward watched Bella very slowly and gingerly slip a hand through the arm of a sweater. He grimaced slightly in anticipation, knowing the flex of her limb was too quick—

"Shit!"

It was the second shirt she'd tried to don. The first was in two pieces on the floor.

Tanya had brought them a very large basket of clothes for Bella. He knew, from their long acquaintance, that Tanya was somewhat familiar with newborns. He also knew, from his experience living with two sisters, that the supply of cast-offs in the Denali home was probably unending.

"It's literally been a day, love," he said softly to Bella, approaching her from behind, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're doing so well."

Bella turned her head to acknowledge him with a small smile, but still sighed in frustration. "Being a vampire seemed a lot cooler when I thought it was going to be all living forever and super strength. And, not, like actually being like a newborn baby and not being able to dress myself."

Edward chuckled. "Is it really so bad that I have to help you get dressed?" He had rather enjoyed the process of sliding the jeans up her legs, and then helping her put on her bra. Of course, said efforts were nearly counterproductive, but they'd been ultimately successful. The fact that he was looking forward to helping her back out of everything later made it easier.

"I suppose not . . . for now," Bella grumbled, "but it feels so wasteful when everything I touch gets damaged."

Edward smiled in sympathy. "Right after Carlisle changed me, he bought books on plumbing and construction and made me read them. Shall I tell you why?"

She nodded.

"It's because I kept ripping faucet handles and doorknobs off when I tried to use them."

"You did not." Her tone expressed doubt but she was smiling, at least. This was helping.

"I did. And I went through two piano keyboards as well."

"Really?" She chuckled. "You're not just trying to make me feel better?"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't lie to you. And if you still don't believe me, remind me later to tell you some stories about Emmett. And even Esme."

She reached up to place a hand to his cheek, as careful as if she was touching a pane of glass. She really _was_ doing well, no matter how much she complained. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "You always have a way of making me feel better about things."

"Still part of my job description." he murmured, losing himself in her loving gaze and wondering if they could wait a few more minutes before calling the children.

His desire was stymied by Bella's next words. "Edward, is my dad okay?" She kept her voice very low, obviously wanting to keep the conversation private. They'd already spoken briefly about Edward's conversation with Charlie in the woods, briefly being the chief descriptor. It seemed that most of their recent conversations, when conducted in private, were so and, after all, it was the first time they'd been apart for even a minute since her change. Edward hadn't really considered before which of his wife's desires would take precedence, beyond thirst, after her transformation. He had no questions now. No complaints, either.

"He's . . . quite anxious," he told her now. It was not untrue, but Charlie was perfectly capable of speaking his own mind, and Edward hoped he would do so with Bella on his own terms and timeline.

"And you two are okay?" She asked.

He smirked and waved his hands over his chest with a flourish. "No bullet holes."

She chuckled at their old joke. "Very funny. But really, are you?"

He nodded, expecting her face to relax, but it remained tense and questioning.

"What was up with Jasper needing to hunt? He didn't need to, I could tell. And my dad . . . he's . . ." Her features were twisted in concentration even as she waited for his reply. Edward knew that she must be very worried if she was able to be so focused.

This part he could share, without feeling as if he was violating Charlie's confidence. "Victoria told most of her newborns that exposure to direct sunlight would kill them. When the cloud cover disappeared, your father was understandably quite concerned."

She inhaled. "The moonlight."

"Yes, that was why they stopped. Jasper thought he was too anxious to continue but he couldn't tell why until we got there and I could get a read on him."

"And that was why you . . . ?"

"Yes."

"He thought we would die."

Edward nodded.

"Oh, Dad," she breathed out. "You're going to be okay."

While it was doubtful her words would reach Charlie's hearing, Edward wasn't sure they would even percolate through the many layers of trauma the man was contending with. He'd been amazed when Charlie had managed to dredge himself out of his bewildering stew of thoughts to confront him earlier. But he was very glad he had.

In the meantime, though, Edward could hear by their thoughts that Tanya had taken Charlie in hand, inviting him to help her sort through some of Eleazar's clothes for himself, and to finally join her in the living space to read. Unlike his daughter, and most newborns in Edward's experience, Charlie was nimble as a newborn, and he hadn't destroyed anything yet. Edward could tell that he appreciated the undemanding company he'd been offered, for Tanya's company was just that: gentle, calming. He remembered a time, many years ago, that she had been that for him, as well. "I think he will," Edward said. Thinking that this was a subject of conversation best left for another time, he announced, "The kids should be wide awake by now."

He had her full attention with that comment. Her gaze flicked to the clock and back. "Let's call."

"Oh," Esme said, picking up on the first ring. "You've just missed them. Emmett took them for ice cream."

"At ten AM?" Bella squeaked.

Edward was glad he was holding the phone.

"After they went for a walk in the park," Esme amended.

Edward held up a pacifying hand, and Bella closed her mouth. He smiled gently at her while he spoke to Esme. "I'm guessing Madeleine is with you?"

"Of course." He heard her voice soften. "Just a minute."

Esme turned the call to video, and there she was, asleep as only newborn babies could be, wrapped in a knit white blanket, her fine red hair tufted out the top of the swaddle like the tip of some exotic bouquet.

"Oh," Bella breathed, her hand to her heart, arms tight around her chest.

They watched her in Esme's arms, their focus unbroken and feeling no guilt for keeping Esme so still. Vampire arms never tired, and the gazes of vampire parents never needed to stray.

After some time, Edward nudged closer to Bella. "Not so bad, then?"

"Not so bad," she said, her smile brilliant.

\- 0 -

Charlie Swan stared out of the bank of windows that run the length of the wall holding up the main room's vaulted ceiling. Though snow banked the house—he snorted and amended his description—the resort-shaped domicile, the view was anything but plain. The snow wasn't white. It was silver, blue, and grey, then the palest orange and pink when the clouds thinned and let the sunset through. In places, the miniscule ice crystals found light to fracture. And he was trying very hard to have his attention be absorbed by this, because otherwise he would recall things he would so much rather not.

There was no silence in this house, as there had not been silence in the other place he'd been kept. But he was, he reminded himself, free to leave. He told himself this, shifting his eyes to the woman who sat beside him, near-silently turning pages in her book. He didn't think she'd try to tackle him if he ran, but he wasn't sure.

Edward's brother Jasper, though, he was a different story. It was easier to think of him as, 'the-one-with-all-the-bitemarks'.

He didn't really recall meeting Jasper before. He had, he knew, but the man's presence had been so quiet, he had simply faded into the background.

Before. He shook his head. There was no use going there right now.

Tanya turned another page. Her eyes appeared married to the words, her focus unbroken.

They were vampires. He was a vampire. He turned these words over in his mind again. Emmett had explained this to him, eyeing Jasper as he'd done so. And then he'd shown him how to take down a deer.

Charlie filled his lungs with air and released it. He didn't need to breathe. That was helpful to know. He'd suspected as much, but no one had exactly given him a crash course in what he was when he'd stopped wanting to die from the pain. He shuddered at the memory.

Tanya looked at him then, but didn't say anything. Unlike every other one of his kind—Bella included—her gaze didn't make his skin want to crawl. It felt . . . soft. He supposed that was why she was sitting beside him, and not Bella. The others had disappeared somewhere. Jasper was outside.

He really liked that Jasper was outside.

The sounds of the house buzzed around him. A cabinet clicked shut. The chug of water drawn through plastic pipes by the washing machine. A zipper undone. A swish of fabric dropped to the floor. Then whispered names.

Bella's name.

"Oh." The word escaped before he thought to catch it. Bella and Edward were—

"Why don't you come to the kitchen with me?" Tanya said.

"Why?" Again, words before thinking. "Sorry."

She didn't answer his question, standing and smiling at him with a gentle, "C'mon."

The kitchen looked like it belonged in a house. A very, very large house. It also looked like it could house five chefs.

Tanya went to a cabinet, pulling out a mug, then found a kettle and filled it with water, which she put on the hob to boil.

"We can't—" Charlie started.

"Oh, I know." Again, that smile. That very soft smile. He could relax a little with that smile.

When the water was boiling, Tanya let the whistle of the tea kettle go on for a bit longer than he thought necessary, until he realized that it masked other sounds in the place. Finally removing the kettle from the stove, Tanya filled a mug and then carried this over to a small table and chairs by one of the windows. "Here," she pushed it towards him. "It'll feel nice to hold it, and it won't smell nearly as bad as if I made you a cup of coffee."

Charlie wrapped his hands around the cup. It did feel nice. He'd sat so in his life, hands taking the warmth from a cup of coffee. And they were further from the bedrooms here. The sounds were more muted.

"Thank you," he said softly. It was a kind gesture, and he had a far greater appreciation for kindness, now.

She smiled again.

His muscles felt like they relaxed just a tiny bit more. His body was starting to catch up with his head. He was safe here. He was just . . . here. Safe.

Yet, with this relief, and the relaxation of the tension that had gripped him in the last couple of weeks, other things found space to be. He'd woken to brutality, and then had his own brutality awoken in him. He'd seen things he would never unsee, and worse, done things that clung to his memory like the barnacles on a boat. He could not shake them—and he had tried.

"You must still have many questions."

Charlie eyed Tanya. She hadn't asked a question or made a demand; she'd simply made an observation—a slightly presumptive one but nothing that required response. She'd make an excellent interrogator, he mused. He would know, as he'd been a good one himself. He could read people well. Vampires, however, he was not so adept at decoding. Never had been, apparently, he thought with chagrin as he considered how much he had missed. Their bodies did not betray their feelings, not the way humans' did. He tried to remember if anything Edward had done or not done had raised any alarm bells, but he came up blank. He was sure he'd seen the man eat and drink in front of him, and both Edward and Carlisle were practicing physicians, for crying out loud.

"How'd you know to do this?" he asked, lifting his chin towards the cup in his hands.

She quirked an eyebrow. "That's not what I would expect you to ask."

"What would you expect me to ask?"

"About what you are, now."

He lifted an eyebrow in turn. She wasn't giving anything away. Definitely skilled. "You haven't answered my question."

She chuckled. "Sorry. I'm used to being evasive, and here I invited questions. I, um . . . have some experience with the recently turned." That smile again, but more rueful.

He nodded, acknowledging her answer. He wouldn't prod at her melancholy. "I know so little about what I am, and what the hell's going on, you probably couldn't go wrong by telling me anything."

"Anything, well." She took in a breath and released it, but not like someone would when they needed air. It was like she was appreciating the scent of a flower. "We're immortal. We live forever." She paused, watching him absorb this.

Charlie nodded for her to continue, letting her words sink into him. She was easy to listen to.

"We don't change or age, though we will gather dust if we stay still for too long." She smiled a little. "Not that I expect you're one to want to sit around." She went on, blithely disclosing that she'd lived for just over a millenia, offering up some of her personal history, and that of her family. "But I'm sorry, you must have more questions about our general nature, what we can do—"

"No," Charlie assured her, "I enjoy hearing about people." He chuckled, only a little bitterly. "Occupational hazard."

"And what was your occupation?" she asked.

"I was a cop."

"A lawkeeper." She nodded, as if in approval. "My family has a . . . healthy respect for the law."

That sadness again. She was a woman who understood what it was to be hurt. Here he understood the reasoning for her shepherding him, and here he found the courage to ask the question he'd been afraid to ask, especially after seeing Bella.

He lowered his voice. "Was how, was how I was . . . turned, is it, does it have to be . . . bad—do you know if that would have happened to Bella?"

Tanya's face seemed to crumple slightly. "No," she said. "Not at all, though it is rare for the person to be willing so perhaps there would have been less fear. I understand Edward changed Bella because she would have died otherwise. He was very concerned because she didn't show any distress during her transformation. He thought he'd done something wrong. Of course, Edward is an expert worrier." There was a hint of a smile again.

The relief was like water in Charlie's bones—everywhere all at once. The air left his lungs in a giant shove, and he felt no need to retrieve more of it.

She hadn't suffered. At least, not like he had.

He let this be enough for a moment, before he began his next query. "Edward said she hadn't . . . hurt anyone." He didn't think Edward would lie about this, but after learning all that he had in the last hours, it didn't hurt to have some things verified from more than one source.

"I'm sure the Cullens took every precaution to keep her from harming a human."

A nice way of saying she didn't know.

Never in his life had he ever imagined he would have the weight of seven souls on his conscience. Never. And in so imagining, he had no framework with which to carry them. Their memory was sandpaper on skin, and for all the hardness his new body had, his mind and heart broke with each remembrance of those faces. He may not have been the one who killed them in every case but they had still died because of him and he couldn't deny having had their blood run through his veins . . . if he even had veins now. He didn't even have names for the visages that haunted him.

The guilt was just the beginning, the brutality of the others of his kind he'd been kept with its own special seasoning. If the fear of being burnt alive hadn't been enough to shackle him to the monstrous woman and her henchman, the summary execution of the man who had tried to escape would have. The crack and metallic sheering had been their own horror, but then the smoke . . . another shudder rattled up his spine.

He hadn't been posturing when he told Edward to kill him during the battle. If he had known the man could read minds, he might have kept pleading out on that field. He hadn't been sure he could exist for the next five minutes, let alone an eternity. He wasn't sure now, either, but he had promised Edward that he would try. For Bella. For his grandkids.

It made the now fainter sounds coming from the bedroom area of the house only a minor irritation in the scope of things about which he needed to be concerned. Bella was a grown woman, married a second time. She and her husband could . . .

He cleared his throat, grateful for the sound it made. Then he realized that Tanya's face had slipped—just the tiniest bit—and then resumed its careful mask. But for a moment, he had glanced at something there that was . . . not an expression worn in polite company.

He turned the cup gently in his hands. He didn't want to break it. He liked the heat, though it was fading, and brought it to his lips. Yes, there was a familiar comfort in that gesture too, although it recalled the thirst for something very, very different.

If Tanya noticed his physical discomfort, she said nothing.

The house noises were a helpful screen, but they were just that, a screen, and everything for miles drifted in, this further filtered and sorted by his mind. He'd had enough time since his change to appreciate its new powers, thinking how nice it would've been if he'd had them when he had been a sheriff. But now his mind caught the words, and more importantly, the alarming tone with which Edward, and then Bella, were speaking.

Tanya would have heard it all too, but appeared to pretend not to have heard, at least, not until one word made her eyes widen with what Charlie knew could only be fear.

"Who are the Volturi?" He asked.

\- 0 -

With the call to Esme concluded, Edward turned to Bella but was interrupted by the buzz of his cellphone, which was still in his hand. Alice. Part of him was exasperated. He and his wife—his now immortal, unbreakable, never-tiring wife—were alone, their loved ones safe, their enemy destroyed, and he had several plans with which to fill a period of unbroken, solitary time. None of those plans entailed phone calls.

"Yes?" he said as politely as he could, answering the call.

Alice's words were simple, the briefness and urgency with which they were spoken enough to inform him of almost all he needed to know: "They're coming."

Edward swallowed hard and nodded to himself, momentarily forgetting that Alice couldn't see him.

"Edward?" Alice asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I understand. When?"

"Tomorrow. You need to come now."

Still holding the phone to his ear, Edward turned to look at his wife, whose face was a tense canvas he was about to paint with horrors he didn't want to see.

"Who's coming?" she asked.

His voice cracked over a whisper as he spoke: "The Volturi."

\- 0 -

Author's Postscript for 2020-06-05: Many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for taking my raw material and making it work. She's an amazing beta.

Credit: We need to give a public nod to AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed's story "Prelude in C", which inspired Edward's comments about learning about plumbing after breaking so many taps as a newborn. If you haven't read this fic, you should. It's a marvelous story, which examines Edward's early life through both Carlisle's and Edward's eyes. It's beautifully written and is a fascinating character study.

Cheers,

Erin

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	59. Not-So-Idle Speculations

A/N for 2020-06-19: At the start of _last_ summer, I was sure I'd have this story all wrapped up and a whole novel written by the end of August. And now that I've given you all a good and very well-deserved laugh at my expense, please raise your glass in the direction of my beta Eeyorefan12 before you sally onwards to read this chapter, which will be the third-to-last of the regular chapters for this story.

Happy reading!

Erin

* * *

Edward paced the length of the bedroom, his worried expression reflected back at him from the window glass as he spoke into the phone. "Can we get the children out? Could Rose and Esme—?"

"Yes," Alice said. Her voice sounded tinny through the earpiece.

"Then do it," he said. "We'll need Carlisle there to . . . bargain, if we can."

It was the way Alice said, "Okay," that worried him. The pitch of her voice suggested terrifying uncertainties. Perhaps the Volturi knew of, and were playing with the holes in her vision, or their course of action was set to one that did not allow for hope.

He wasn't sure which was worse, and he wouldn't ask until he could see what she was seeing. Words never communicated the wholeness of her visions. He would wait to see her in person. Until then, they would have to plan for the worst and hope for the best.

"One of us should go with them, Edward." Bella's voice was high-pitched with feeling. She stood awkwardly beside the bed, one arm straight down at her side, the other gripping it so tightly that she'd ripped the sleeve at her clutched elbow.

He shook his head. "You're not ready yet," he said as gently as he could to take the sting out," and I have to be there. We're not sure why they're coming, and I need to hear what they don't say out loud."

The hole in her sleeve widened, and she pulled her hand away. She glanced at the ripped fabric, and then looked back at him, her expression troubled. "Where will they take them?"

"It's better if we don't know," Edward said softly.

Bella sucked in a loud gasp. "You think—"

At her side immediately, he cupped her face with both hands. "It's purely a precaution. We don't want the Vol—them near our children, ever. And if the worst should happen, we don't want them going after them, either." He kept his voice as soothing as possible. He could see how much she was struggling to keep her volatile newborn emotions in check.

Her voice rose with emotion. "But you said that one of them is a tracker, that he could—"

"It's the absolute worst-case scenario, Bella." And it was the one his gut dreaded, but he dared hope was wrong. "We're going to be okay." He prayed his words weren't a lie.

As with any gathering of vampires, there were no secrets that left anyone's lips, and the name he'd only whispered once had snatched up the attention of every single one in earshot. Tanya and Eleazar's thoughts were calling to him, summoning him to speak with them all where they'd gathered in the living room.

"We need to talk with the others," Edward said.

It took two gentle tugs at Bella's hand before she allowed him to lead her from the room. Her eyes were focused on him, but her thoughts were silent, as always.

The rest of the household waited in the living room. Jasper stood in the far corner of the room, as far from Charlie as he could be. His brother unnerved his father-in-law profoundly, and Edward did not fault the man. Jasper could be a fierce presence, particularly for one so new to their existence. Grant seemed less bothered by Jasper, and in listening to the two newborns' thoughts, Edward wondered again at the disparate methods and means by which Victoria had managed her two newborn armies. He was glad again that she was dead, because it had been the luckiest of strokes, and Charlie's well-timed escape, that had parted Victoria from Murray, allowing the Cullens to find and ultimately destroy her.

From Jasper's thoughts, Edward knew that Alice had texted him about their plans. After Rose and Esme left for the airport with the children, the rest of the Cullens would meet Edward, Bella, Jasper and anyone else who would join them near the Cullens' property. He deduced that this must be where she saw the Volturi arriving. The landscape there was distinct, two gnarled trees flanking a bend in the road.

"Why are they coming?" Kate asked. There was no doubt as to whom she referred. Every mind in the room, save Charlie's, was lit up with the word.

"Alice and I are promised to them," Jasper said. "And we're overdue."

All eyes present snapped towards him.

"We _think_ that's why," Edward said. "But we don't know that's their only reason."

"Your recently-defeated foe has made enough of a visible mess to have attracted attention," Eleazar said.

Edward shook his head. "It's all speculation until they arrive."

"Alice isn't seeing anything?" Tanya asked. Edward noted she'd chosen to sit by Charlie. Or perhaps it was the other way around?

"No," Edward said. "But she can tell us more when we see her. They're getting the children out right now."

"Where to?" Charlie asked.

There was a beat of silence in the room until Tanya softly repeated the words Edward had just used with Bella upstairs. "It's better if we don't know," she said, her tone heavy with regret.

Edward listened to Charlie struggle with the need to ask questions, but he clearly understood that the conversation needed to move along. Edward hoped that his father-in-law would have time in which to voice all such questions in the future. To live, as he'd promised Edward he would.

"I'd say why they're coming is pretty important speculation, wouldn't you?" Irina asked, challenging Edward with her stare as well as her thoughts.

"Why is it—?" Grant started, but Irina smiled gently at him, silencing his question. She then returned her fierce gaze to Edward.

"I have no answers for you there, Irina. Nor do I expect you to stand with us. You have cause enough to be wary, and if this comes down to any kind of fight, we couldn't possibly win—"

"I wouldn't say that," Eleazar said. He eyed Bella intently, as she stood beside Edward, her brow furrowed with worry.

"No," Edward said. He would not risk Bella for foolish speculation. They would have to be insane to attack the Volturi unprovoked. And to do it using his newborn wife, who'd never shown deliberate control of her gift? He was angry that Eleazar had even suggested it. Even if they managed to succeed in physically overcoming the four Alice saw coming, they would face the much larger and more destructive remainder of the Volturi guard. No, there would be no escape, if it came to a fight. They had to find another way out of this.

"I think we are more bound together in this than you kindly suggest, Edward," Eleazar said, clearly reading his expression. "Speculative reasons or solutions aside." He shrugged then, his thoughts showing his suggestion about Bella was only that. _Peace, Edward,_ he sent silently.

Across the room, only aware of part of the discussion, Jasper silently agreed with his cousin. There was no way the Volturi wouldn't know that the Cullens and Denalis had worked together to destroy Victoria, if that was the purpose of their business.

"At the simplest level," Eleazar continued, "they will know by scent alone of our association, and they can know more if they ask, despite what we wish to tell. You know this."

Yes, Edward did, with the kind of horrifying clarity of memory he wished he could forget.

"If you stand with us, it will make it much harder to plead your innocence," Jasper said softly. His heart, his kind, kind heart, wanted to spare his cousins this fate, or delay it. He was trying to think of a way to extricate them, unsuccessful as it was likely to be.

"We are not cowards, and we need no excuses. We've made enough of those," Tanya said. "You're our family. We'll stand with you." She eyed her sisters, turning her head to look at Carmen and Eleazar. They all nodded at her. "It may give the Volturi pause to . . . strain their relations with so many." Barring Grant's, their thoughts were clear for Edward. They knew the risks. Straining relations with the Volturi was the best outcome. Death was still more likely. Charlie was still trying to take everything in but it was clear he understood that there was a threat to his daughter's new family. Edward already knew what the man's choice would be in this.

Beside him, Bella squeezed Edward's hand, and his gaze locked with hers, finding something like hope in her eyes. And fierceness. "Thank you," he said to everyone, his eyes still on his mate's, his throat tight with emotion. He turned back to the group. "But we should go now. Alice expects them to arrive at our family's home tomorrow. If there's any chance of this ending . . . amicably, we need to make a plan."

As they all journeyed north, Edward longed to run at his full speed, but he was held back by the pace at which everyone else could travel. In addition, they were using the time to think and plan but also to share the ideas they came up with. Even at this pace, there was no doubt they would reach their destination well before mid-morning, when Alice had told him she saw the Volturi arriving. Edward found himself longing to speak with Carlisle, to share the weight of worry his shoulders carried, and to hear the calm wisdom he did not doubt his father could provide.

He pondered the Volturi's timing again. There hadn't been enough time for the guard to have travelled from Italy since their last warning, and it was a small contingent of the guard that Alice saw coming—the same powerful group that had visited them before. They must have already been nearby. Perhaps they were here on other business? Surely they had no way of knowing about the battle only a day before. He struggled to think of what might have triggered their imminent arrival. Turning his head back, he caught Jasper's eye, and his brother drew close. "Why now?" he mouthed, so that the others wouldn't see.

While they all took on some level of surveillance with monitoring news reports, Jasper was superlative in his ability to string together patterns the others missed, digging deeper into stories that others might disregard.

When he revealed to Edward his current speculation, Edward swore to himself. He'd been so deeply terrified by Bella's transformation that he hadn't even registered the final thread in that part of Bella's bargain with Victoria: Chelsea. Who but the Volturi would give credence to a child's wild writings, thrown out onto the internet in frustration? Chelsea's story had been largely dismissed by the human world as the hysterics of a traumatized girl lost during a family hike. Whatever explanation or warning Leah had provided had not been sufficient to keep her quiet. He thought of Bella and her attachment to the girl. She'd traded her human life for that of her young student. He couldn't torment her now with the possibility of the girl's death. They simply didn't know. If the Volturi thought Chelsea was incredible by virtue of her age, they would leave her alone, as her death would surely draw more unwanted attention. But there was no certainty.

And it didn't matter, ultimately. The timeline on which Alice saw the Volturi arriving would be unchanged by his worry or speculation. In the face of the four talented guard members, there was little to be done by way of preparation. If their sentence was set, Alec would immobilize them, Jane would torture them to extract any desired information, and Felix would dismember and burn them. If, by some miracle, one of them escaped, Demetri would find them. There was no escaping death with the Volturi, if that was their determination. Only Alice and Jasper would be spared.

And while they'd given Esme, Rose and the children time to escape this encounter, if the Volturi wanted them, Demetri would find them, too.

_Please_, Edward thought. _Let this only be a show of power in collecting Alice and Jasper. Please. _

If the Volturi wanted his family dead, the children would be included in that sentence, purely by proximity alone.

_Hey, Edward, Can I ask something?_ Charlie called from nearby.

"Of course," he said, realizing he was replying to Charlie's thoughts, rather than his voice.

"Uh, do I need to say things out loud?" Charlie asked aloud this time. They were running, and while Charlie's mind was full of questions about the Volturi, part of it was also marvelling that they could run and talk without feeling the effort at all.

"Either way is fine. Go ahead and ask," Edward said. Bella had heard them talking and moved closer.

"What did you mean, the Volturi had visited you before? Tanya said they were your—"

"Law keepers, yes. They keep the one law."

"That we don't let anyone know we exist."

"Yes."

"So, why did they come before?" Charlie pressed.

Before Edward could form a reply, Bella cut in. "Because of me," she muttered.

Edward glanced her way and saw the twist of guilt in her face. He tried to think of how to frame an explanation that might alleviate some of the burden she still carried. "The Volturi visited us _supposedly_ because word reached them that a human—Bella—knew of our kind and had openly spoken about us." he finally said to Charlie. "However, given Carlisle's friendship with Aro—"

"Aro?"

"One of the Volturi leaders."

"They're friends?" Charlie sounded surprised.

"Of a sort," Edward said. "At least, they were, a very long time ago. Out of respect for Carlisle, we were given a chance to defend ourselves against the accusations. Regrettably," Edward turned to check on Bella, still running by his side but not looking at him, "we had to use her medical diagnosis to discredit her so that they would spare her life."

Obviously hearing the remorse in his tone, Bella looked his way and reached out to him. "For which you were all forgiven," she murmured quietly, twining their fingers together. "As you forgave me."

They continued moving in silence for a while, as Edward focused on the comfort of his mate's hand in his.

Charlie continued to ruminate before speaking again. "But that wasn't the end of it."

"No." Edward became aware that most of the minds around them had now tuned in and he forced himself to concentrate only on Charlie's question. "As it turned out, they had somehow become aware of Jasper and Alice's gifts and they . . . extracted a promise from them to serve as members of the Volturi guard."

Edward listened to Irina augment this information for Grant's sake, which Charlie took in too.

Charlie's thoughts had snagged on the word 'extracted' and Edward's brief hesitation before using it. He thought of Edward as a smooth talker, and he suspected there was much more to that one word than his son-in-law had communicated. His words betrayed none of this. Edward wondered briefly how long it would take before Charlie learned to temper his thoughts around him . . . and if he would have that opportunity. He shook off the negativity of the thought.

"That would have been years ago," Charlie said, frowning as he considered the other implications of the Volturi's last visit.

"Yes," Edward answered. "They'd given Alice and Jasper time to put their affairs together, but they made it clear that their time ended in October."

Charlie looked towards Jasper, a respectful distance away. "I guess you stayed to . . . solve the other problem."

Jasper nodded at Charle.

Edward couldn't help but smile a little. Despite Charlie's wariness around Jasper, Edward's brother liked Bella's father, and he liked his way of thinking even more. Charlie's mind was rich with logical speculation. He and Jasper would make good friends.

If they had the chance. He reminded himself how uncertain their future was at this moment.

Bella's hand brought a gentle pressure to his again, and he looked towards her, wishing yet again that he could hear her thoughts. That gentle pucker at her forehead told him she was worried, guilty, or both. Forgiven or not, he knew she still believed it was her own disclosures to the wolves that had informed the Volturi of his siblings' gifts. It didn't matter. What was done was done.

"I love you," he mouthed to her.

"I love you, too," she mouthed back.

"They don't seem to be the type to operate with transparent motives, then," Charlie observed, clearly unaware of their brief exchange. His mind was still fully focused on the problem in front of them.

Yes. He and Jasper would be good friends, Edward decided. He nodded to Charlie. "I think it's safe to say that the Volturi will be leaving with Alice and Jasper."

Charlie continued to think. "Tell me more about them."

"What in particular?" Edward asked. He thought of the Volturi attributes: vindictive, cruel, powerful, monstrous, unchecked—

"Who's in charge, for starters," Charlie asked.

"Aro," Bella answered for him.

"That's it? A one-man show?"

"No," Eleazar chimed in from behind them. "Aro, Marcus and Caius rule together. The guard serve them."

Charlie kept peppering them with questions: How many? How did it work? Who had what power? What exactly did they know of the Cullens? The Denalis? Charlie's questions were good ones. His age and experience before being turned were remarkably apparent. He was a rare creature in that, being an older vampire and one with decades of experience with people. It would serve him well.

Then one of his thoughts took precedence. "So they don't know you can read their thoughts?" he asked Edward.

When Edward shook his head, Charlie seemed pleased. "You can anticipate their moves, then. That's a huge advantage. You'll be able to see their true motives."

Edward almost laughed with bitterness. The Volturi killed what they feared. He only risked death, or lifetime servitude, exposing his own gift. But as he thought of this, he saw that such a movement might be worthwhile. If it served his family, then so be it. "Anyone with a gift they find useful becomes something to be coveted . . . or disposed of." Bella's hand tightened fiercely on his at his words. He hated that he was distressing her. "They really have only the one motive, Charlie: to preserve their power. Keeping our existence a secret serves that purpose."

"Well, they've done a shitty job of keeping things quiet then. I was more than aware of the disappearances that were going on all over the coast, and not just because I was a cop. It was all over the news. If I were them, I'd be coming to investigate that mess. Given that you pretty much solved that problem, I'd expect some gratitude for doing their job."

Edward amended his opinion of Charlie: aged and experienced, yes, but naive, too. Charlie and Grant were byproducts of that very trouble to which Charlie referred. The Cullens and Denalis were just as likely to be found guilty for unlawfully preserving the two newborns as they were for destroying the forty or so others that Victoria had made.

He smiled sympathetically at Charlie, "They are not creatures accustomed to expressing any kind of gratitude. Or mercy." Edward heard the agreement in the minds around them, particularly those of the Denali sisters.

Charlie "harumphed" before going back to his speculations, lighting upon the obvious disparity in numbers. "I know you don't want to pick a fight with them, but if there are only four—"

"Their gifts make them more powerful than their numbers suggest. Alec alone—" Edward let his words trail off. How could he begin to describe what that vicious boy could do?

"Who's Alec?" Charlie asked.

"Jane's brother," Eleazar answered, obviously aware of Edward's reluctance to explain. "He takes away peoples' senses—everything they see, hear, feel . . . ."

"I see," Charlie said, although Edward knew he really didn't. How could he? Charlie's mind considered a different kind of numbers. "Do the Volturi operate on consensus? Do you think they all want this, from what you heard before?" He was thinking about how his own experiences in leadership had been so fractured. How there was rarely consensus even in the smallest things, let alone in interfering with such a large group of people, particularly one that had typically been so compliant with—and helpful in enforcing the law. He was wondering if any of them would be more sympathetic to the Cullens' situation.

It was a fair question. Edward recalled their experience of years ago. It had been Aro who'd wanted Jasper and Alice, according to Jane. And it was Aro that Edward had seen in her head, recognizing him from Carlisle's memories and the painting that once hung in his father's study. But he couldn't tell if Marcus and Caius had had any objection to what Aro wanted since they hadn't been there in Jane's thoughts. Only Aro had been. He shook his head. "I don't know, but I can't imagine Aro would be able to send any members of the guard without their knowledge or consent." Yet, that didn't mean Aro couldn't operate with some level of subterfuge. It wasn't like Caius and Marcus had access to the guard's thoughts. Unlike Aro.

Unlike himself.

They were almost to the Cullens' home.

It began to snow lightly, tiny flakes making soft journeys to swirl around them, landing on shoulders and dusting their hair. If they weren't running, they would soon be covered with it. For all his thinking, Charlie and Bella both were distracted by the accumulation they witnessed around them, Charlie's hand reaching out to catch a flake, and then examining it.

Carlisle's figure emerged first from the haze of increasing snow, Alice next and then Emmett, all three of them stopping some distance away.

Edward exhaled as Alice showed him a clear vision of Esme and Rose with the children, deplaning somewhere . . . warm. She stopped thinking of the vision there, and smiled apologetically at him. The children were safe for now, and Esme and Rose would be spared the horror of the Volturi's attentions. For the time being, at least. It was a small mercy, but he would take all such mercies. "The children are safe," he said to Bella.

She, too, breathed out in relief. "Thank you," she whispered to Alice.

"Bella, Charlie," Carlisle said, approaching them slowly, carefully assessing the newborns in front of him. _They seem to be doing well, _he commented silently to Edward, waiting for Edward's brief nod before coming closer. Charlie eyed Carlisle, who took a step in their direction, shrewdly assessing the newborns' reactions. Bella surprised Carlisle by walking forward to meet him, letting him take her outstretched hands in his.

"Thank you for taking care of them," she said.

"You're very welcome," Carlisle told her. "You look lovely, Bella."

Edward looked down to hide his smirk as he heard the rest of his father's comment directed privately to him. _The video screen didn't do her justice, Son. _

Carlisle released Bella then and turned his attention to Charlie.

"I'm sorry, Chief," Carlisle said with sincerity. It was an apology that covered a myriad of sins, some of which he was responsible for, most of which he was not.

But Charlie understood the intent, and offered a nod and a half-hearted smile in return. "It's been humbling, understanding just how much I didn't know about what was going on under my nose." He looked at Bella.

Edward marveled, as he had many times over the years, at Carlisle's composure in this awkward moment. To have Charlie reference the subterfuge and artifice with which the Cullen family operated on a daily basis could have been considered embarrassing, but Carlisle met Charlie's gaze unflinchingly. Any deception his father had employed had been necessary to protect those he loved as well as the humans around him. He would do any of it again.

"Just giving you a bit of a hard time, Carlisle," Charlie said, after a moment, displaying a tiny but self-satisfied grin.

Emmett barked out a laugh.

The others in the party chuckled more nervously.

Edward, however, remained straight-faced. Charlie's good humour was an impressive show, but it was still just that—a show.. He was desperately trying to regain aspects of his former self by acting as he once had, trying to resurrect these traits through imitation alone.

Carlisle turned his attention to the others, notably Tanya and the other Denalis. "I'm sorry we're meeting under such circumstances."

"As are we," Carmen replied, hugging Carlisle. "It has been too long, old friend."

They were silently recalling their time together in Volterra. Both were hoping their former acquaintance with the Volturi would spare them the worst possibilities suggested by this 'visit'. By this time, no one in the group thought the Volturi's arrival was purely to extract Alice and Jasper. There was something more, and those with experience feared Victoria's ill deeds would be attributed to them, or that their sparing of Grant and Charlie would be grounds enough for punishment. So much depended on the way the wind blew with Aro, Marcus and Caius' whims.

Their greetings finished, Eleazar spoke. "What do you see, Alice?"

Her, _I'm sorry, Edward_, was whispered silently, as she showed him her vision.

He struggled to maintain his expression of calm. _Oh God._

Eleazar, a keen reader of all faces, drew his conclusions from the micro-expressions that traversed Edward's face. "I see."

The rest of the assembled vampires were not nearly so apt in reading him, and Charlie blurted out, "What? What does she see?"

"They're planning to kill us," Alice said.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	60. Alive, willing or otherwise

A/N for 2020-06-28: This chapter marks my first Sunday as a 'free woman', as my beta Eeyorefan12 put it, at least for the summer. It also marks the second-to-last regular chapter of this story. Many, many thanks to my beta for all her work. Hopefully, our efforts satisfy.

~ Erin

* * *

Alice's words hung over them. There was no ambiguity to be found in the sentence 'they're coming to kill us,' but this did not stop a few of the minds present from trying to find some.

"We need to fight, then," Grant said. He was as agitated as Edward expected a newborn to be. And yet, as Edward looked to his wife, there was a calmness in her face that he wished he could understand through her thoughts.

"No," Carlisle said with authority. "Trying to fight with them will lead to exactly what Alice has seen. If they've come to serve justice, we'll listen to their accusations and then be heard."

Edward could see that this process was indeed the way the Volturi normally operated, verified by Eleazar's memories of service, as well as those of the three sisters, though their recollections were fractured by the horror of that encounter.

"The real question is _why_ Alice is seeing that outcome," Jasper said. He was running through theories that might lead to such a conclusion.

"I'm taking it that you aren't included in that ending," Charlie offered.

"No," Alice said, "they'll take us alive, willing or otherwise."

"Is it us?" Charlie asked. He looked to Grant.

Though Edward hadn't said anything, Charlie had pieced together enough of the talk of the Volturi law to understand how he and Grant violated it by merely existing.

"No," Edward said quickly, not so much to the possibility of Charlie being right, but to the dangerous way his father-in-law was again thinking. "And if any of us acts rashly, they will endanger any chance of our survival."

He caught Bella's glance towards himself and then her father. "What are you thinking?" She asked her father. "You're not—"

"Planning to do what you did?" Charlie asked her.

Irina's eyes widened, and she hissed out, "We will not sacrifice a part for the whole!" She moved in front of Grant, as if to protect him.

"No one is suggesting that," Carlisle said, holding up his hand, imploring peace. "Beyond their coming to collect Alice and Jasper, it's very likely they've come to investigate the havoc that Victoria created. They may think we're involved, and that choice may colour what Alice sees, hence her vision. If we explain what has happened, we are just as likely to shift that vision of the future. Grant and Charlie both fought with all of you to destroy Victoria's rogue army. We are within our rights to salvage their lives, especially given the control they've demonstrated."

"You've still broken the law, letting Bella remain human while knowing what we are," Irina said.

"She was turned as soon as it would not endanger her child. The Volturi can understand our reasoning and timing, especially as she is mated to one of us," Carlisle said. Edward heard the silent question his father sent him and gave him a brief nod of confirmation before Carlisle continued. "And, it would appear that Grant is as well?" His tone was gentle but his point was made. If Irina openly claimed the bond she had formed with Grant, it could serve to protect him.

And she did. "We are together." she confirmed. Edward was amused at the lack of surprise in most of the minds around him. Clearly it had been an open secret among the Denali clan, at least. He did hear some minds wonder if the same argument could be used for Charlie and Tanya but, even with their seeming closeness, he hadn't gotten that same reading yet from either of them. He glanced briefly in their direction, finding Tanya already looking at him with a bemused expression. So, nothing decided there, then.

Edward was not surprised when Carlisle, clearly reading the situation, offered, "And Charlie is Bella's human sire. Surely a concept the Volturi would not discount." Edward was pleased to hear the arguments forming in Carlisle's mind. His father was so governed by hope and reason, Edward found himself hoping along with him. Perhaps there was a chance—

"I'm concerned that they will not look so kindly on the fact that Esme and Rose have fled with those children, though." Eleazar's thoughts were almost apologetic towards Carlisle. "It could be perceived as guilty behaviour."

"I don't expect the Volturi to understand a parents' instincts, but if they press on that point, I'm sure they'll be able to see the logic in keeping humans from them, particularly such young and innocent ones," Carlisle said.

"Possibly." Eleazar's thoughts showed that he viewed this as the slimmest possibility. Empathy was not a quality favoured in the guard. "And the fact remains that they will not be here for any determinations of their innocence to be made." Mercifully, and probably for Bella's sake, Eleazar kept his next thought between himself and Edward. _Their tender age does not exempt them from the one all-encompassing rule by which the guard makes their decisions._

Accepting Eleazar's cautioning words, Edward felt his own point bore repeating, lest anyone got the idea to try to summon Rose or Esme as a sign of good will to the Volturi. "The children are completely innocent of what we are and what we've done. There is no justice on them or on Rose or Esme for protecting them." It was true. Edward only hoped that the mounting panic around him allowed people to see this. He himself was holding onto his logic with a desperate grip, the idea of the Volturi near his children making his skin crawl with anxiety.

Time, however, was running against them. The sun was rising, muted by snow and clouds, but by clouds that were beginning to thin, revealing light that would soon be full and bright, coming closer and closer to the time that Alice had seen.

"If they won't listen to our reason, then we need to make a plan to fight," Grant said heatedly, shaking his head.

"Fighting the Volturi would be akin to executing ourselves," Edward said through gritted teeth. The idea needed to be stamped out before anyone's nervous energy took it further.

Grant exhaled loudly, his agitation clear. He was not ready to let this possibility go.

"The situation is certainly unique." Eleazar spoke quietly, almost to himself. He was trying to think of anything like it in his time with the guard.

"All the more reason to prepare ourselves for any possibility, including taking them out first," Grant muttered.

"Kid, no offense but shut up and let the adults do the talking," Charlie said to Grant.

Grant snarled at Charlie in response.

_QUIET DOWN!_ The annoyance in Charlie's thoughts was clear. But unlike any other time Edward had heard a thought from someone, the words echoed loudly in everyone's heads, as if they'd all physically heard it. Charlie's forceful speech silenced Grant. Irina gave Charlie a dark look, but otherwise said nothing. Barring his wife's silent mind, Edward saw that none of the party realized what Charlie had not actually spoken aloud.

Nor did Charlie. His hands on his hips, he glared at Grant, both surprised and satisfied with the effect of his words. He worried they would have to fight, but knew that keeping a cool head, and helping others keep theirs, was the only way he could contribute. The force of will Charlie was using to control himself was admirable, even as Edward observed it from the outside.

Charlie turned to Carlisle. "What do we do if they say we're guilty, or if they won't listen to us?"

Edward's eyes strayed to Alice, but she shook her head. The same vision remained. Whatever would change it, they hadn't found yet.

"Kill Alec," Jasper said. "Whichever of us can." But Alice's vision showed only that their end would then be more violent. She and Edward stared at each other in consternation.

Like a bubbling strew, the fears and vengeful fantasies of Edward's family, both extended and near, rose up around him. While Emmett's wishes were characteristically blunt and brutal about what he wanted to do with Felix, Carlise's similar ones were a shock.

But the possibility of battle—for this was a war, if it came to it—was one with which each person was trying to make their own peace.

"It's soon," Alice said.

Yes, it was. Edward could see it. And they were no closer to answers than they'd been before. Speculations, even when done with others, were still just that: speculations.

With that in mind, Edward turned to Bella. He brushed her hair from her face, pulling in her scent with his next breath. It calmed him a little, enough to give words to the idea that there might be an after to whatever was coming. "What do you want to do, when this business is all done with?"

He watched the sad smile lift the corners of her mouth. He knew she had no illusions about what might transpire. "I want to see the kids." Very carefully and slowly, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.

He closed his eyes momentarily, savoring the sensation. "You think you're ready?" he asked, knowing how unlikely this would be.

She nodded. "Some things put . . . others in perspective. And I have it on good authority that such control is possible."

He smiled. "Do you now?"

"I do." She stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him, smoothing her hands over his chest and looking up at him, smiling a little. "You didn't kill your singer, after all."

She had him there. He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers briefly, then pulled back to look into her eyes. "No," he breathed out. "It would have been like destroying a part of myself."

"Exactly." Bella drew a gentle hand down his cheek before she slipped away to move towards her father.

"And you, Dad?" she asked, hugging him. "What do you want to do when this is all done?"

"Oh," he said, his voice holding a tiny tremor, "I think I'd like to settle down somewhere far away from people. Maybe go fishing."

Edward let himself smile a little through his fear. He truly hoped he'd have the chance to dash Charlie's hopes on the fishing front. Around him, the angry swell of thoughts had faded into similar musings and conversations. This was the momentary calm before their storm, and it was peace that was being made in what might be everyone's last free moments.

What were very likely to be their last _living_ moments, he corrected himself.

Edward noted that Grant did not seem interested in making peace with Charlie, and the eldest of the newborns kept his distance, turning to Irina instead. Even though he knew it was petty, Grant didn't like that another younger newborn seemed to have garnered more authority—or respect, than himself.

"They're here," Alice said.

And indeed, they were. As they mounted the last hill on the road leading to the Cullens' house, Edward watched the four shapes rise from the horizon until they were fully visible. Alice's vision was true.

"Jane," Carlisle said, stepping forward and acknowledging the clear leader of the small group. He nodded in turn to the others, "Alec, Demetri, Felix. We did not expect a visit from the guard."

Jane scanned the large group assembled, silently assessing who and what she knew, determining who was, and wasn't a threat. She immediately noted the absence of two of their family."Carlisle," she returned politely, nodding. "I'm surprised you weren't expecting us, given the gifts your coven-mates have and the communication we sent." She looked pointedly to Alice and Jasper.

"We do apologize for being late," Jasper said. "We were taking care of some business that wasn't unrelated to that of the Volturi." He lifted an eyebrow, looking at Jane.

Jasper's words stirred Jane's memories for Edward to see. The Volturi were aware of the attention-drawing activity in the area—at least, Jane was very much aware.

"That's rather bold, for someone who hasn't been inducted yet, to say they're serving us while serving themselves." Her eyes lit upon Bella, Grant and Charlie in turn. The distinct brightness in their eyes could not be attributed to diet alone. She suspected there was a connection between the many deaths on the coast they'd looked into and the newborns standing before her.

And there, only for a fraction of a second, was Victoria's face, nodding, in Jane's vision. Edward strained his ability, trying to understand the context.

"Uncontrolled newborns are all our business, Jane. Everyone knows that." Jasper's relaxed posture was at odds with his tense thoughts as he tried to riddle out what the guard's true reason for arriving was. _Edward? Anything? _Jasper knew it had only been a few minutes but was just as desperate for information. He didn't react when Edward lowered his gaze once in a negative reply.

Alice, meanwhile, kept showing Edward what the future held. So far, it was unchanged.

"And yet, you seem to have acquired three newborns and allied yourself with another coven. Quite an augmentation, Carlisle, for someone so . . . _peace-loving_ as you are."

"We are no threat to you," Carlisle said calmly.

"I'd like to believe that, Carilsle, but your mate is not here, and neither is Emmett's. Interesting. And if your intentions are peaceful, why have you amassed this small army with which to greet us?"

"If we were an army, we would have attacked by now," Edward pointed out.

"We are no strangers to your own capacity, Jane, or that of your brother," Eleazar said. "We stand before you without concealment of who we are."

"Where _is_ your wife, Carlisle? And yours, Emmett? Is it not strange, that they would not be here with you, if you wished to be so transparent?" Jane pushed. "What would pull them away at a time like this, when you so obviously knew we were coming? Could it have anything to do with the human children you protect so fiercely?"

No one spoke. Edward clenched his jaw so hard that, had he been human, he would have fractured all his teeth. Although Bella stood by his side, they were not touching each other, but he could feel her agitation and fear as if they were tangible elements. If there had been any hope that the Volturi were unaware of the children's existence, it had been destroyed with Jane's question. He watched his father out of the corner of his eye, wondering what Carlisle thought was best now.

"Rudeness will not be tolerated. I require an answer. Now." Jane directed her gaze at Edward and her eyes narrowed. He heard the word in her head that she did not utter aloud. _Pain._

If Edward's transformation had been an eternal fire, this was his body being broken at the atomic level, each piece of him shattered by a power that seemed to expand with each rendering of itself. If he was screaming, he didn't know, he only knew the pain he'd longed to forget in the intervening years since he'd last felt it.

When it stopped as suddenly as it had begun, he came back to himself, standing as Bella pulled him up. "Edward?" She asked, her voice tight with fear.

"I'm fine." He was surprised to realize that he was telling her the truth. He wondered briefly why Jane had released him from the pain so quickly; he knew it was not her usual way.

Jane seemed just as perplexed as he was for for a moment, before she laughed at Edward's reply. "Where are they?" she asked, serious again. A flicker of memory travelled with the question—of Aro's order for Jane and compatriots to "attend to" the Cullens. Very distinctly Aro, but not Marcus and Caius. Was it possible the other two leaders didn't know of her mission's true purpose, whatever that was?

Growing angry with the silence before her, Jane turned to Bella, and Edward sucked in a breath as the vile woman flung her vicious gift at his wife.

But nothing happened. Ever so subtly, Jane's eyes widened and then narrowed as she struggled to comprehend this development.

Edward watched Jane prod at each member of their party, attempting to incapacitate them with pain, acting very much like a toddler perplexed by the sudden inefficacy of its favourite toy. Nothing. Somehow her gift had been rendered useless. Concealing her increasing frustration, she returned to words with obvious distaste. "Those who flee are always found. We are not without mercy in dispensing our justice. If Esme and Rose have fled in guilt, and you cooperate in bringing them to us, we will ensure a speedy sentence is only passed on the guilty parties."

Edward scanned the thoughts of his family, both immediate and extended. In them, he found no inclination to take Jane's bargain, nor any reason as to why her power had been rendered ineffective. Beside him, Bella appeared as she had before, her posture stiff, gaze focused fiercely on Jane. Edward could only hope that whatever, or whoever was hindering Jane's talent would continue. Behind him, he could hear that Eleazar was thinking the same thing. Was it possible it was Charlie? Or even Grant, with a latent gift?

"None of us have done anything for which we need fear your justice," Carlisle said evenly. "We do not owe you an explanation for the whereabouts of any of our family, but in the interest of mutual cooperation, I will tell you that it was not safe for the children here with so many newborns. They've been taken somewhere safe. Now, if there are charges to be made against us, we would hear them, Jane."

Jane's head tilted slightly to the left as she continued to nudge each person with her power. Edward could hear her focus as it moved between them, but no one cried out or seemed affected. He glanced briefly in Charlie's direction, but the man stood next to Tanya, observant, thoughts otherwise unremarkable.

"You can't possibly pretend ignorance of what we were charged to come investigate?" Jane lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

Carlisle said nothing, and Edward admired the way his father remained calm in the face of Jane's provocation. His own patience with her toying was wearing thin.

"The charges please, Jane," Carlisle said.

It was Alec who spoke. "Sheltering fugitives who failed to report to the guard as agreed. Making newborns and letting them kill indiscriminately, thereby drawing attention to our kind." He did not like the way his sister was behaving. He was trying to understand why she hadn't tortured them into confessing yet, patently unaware that her talent was suddenly impotent

Jane looked at her brother, the smallest of frowns on her face. She was irked that he'd given them this information. She'd had one plan of attack, and now it was moot. The Cullens knew the charges, and if they could mount a defense, Jane would be left with no plausible reason with which to execute the order that Aro had given her—

Edward had to force himself not to react as Jane's mind suddenly revealed the answer he'd been searching for. She alone had been sent with the order to see them killed, her thoughts revealing a moment between her and Aro as he cautioned her about her 'personal' mission for him. And now Victoria's face was in her memories again, playing out in a moment between the two women

"_Carte blanche?" Victoria asked Jane._

"_Whatever you need," Jane assured her. "So long as you leave the two Cullens alive. Aro will take your newborn helper as payment when you're done."_

The visage of a vampire Edward had seen before only in Jasper's memory, as his brother ripped the man's head from his body, then followed.

And there it was. Jane and Aro had both known of Victoria's dirty vengeance, and they'd given her permission to run amok, so long as the Volturi could have the most gifted vampires when it was all said and done: Alice, Jasper, and unsurprisingly now, Murray.

It had been the Volturi who'd ensured Victoria had operated without detection for all those years. Edward clenched his fists and silenced the rage that wanted to boil out of his skin. Even as she spoke, he could hear Jane trying with increasing desperation to make her power work. Jane was still stymied, and he wondered if all the guard's gifts would be, if there truly was a protector among them. He became aware that Eleazar was trying to get his attention again but he had been so focused on Jane that he hadn't heard him until his thoughts became frantic. _Edward, can you hear me? Is she blocking you? I believe it's Bella. Edward, your mate is the shield. Can you still hear them? _Edward gave a quick nod of response, realizing that Eleazar's theory wasn't as surprising as it should have been.

Beside him, Bella remained still as a statue. He leaned closer to her, murmuring quickly, "Love, whatever you're doing, keep doing it." She looked at him in confusion but nodded, turning her gaze forward again, focusing it on the guard.

Edward drew in a breath as he directed his attention back to Jane, gathering the knowledge he'd gleaned, hoping that he was right, knowing that they were all dead if he wasn't. "You and Aro have been conspiring together. You gave Victoria permission to make and operate her newborn army with impunity," he said. He heard the minds of their group all react at once with shock and anger.

"Alec," Jane snapped, startled by Edward's accusation. Her command to her brother was clear. She needed his power to render her victims speechless and deaf—and quickly. But her panicked thoughts revealed something even more useful: Alec and the others didn't know that it was only Aro who had commanded this, and it was crucial that they did not. The guard's allegiance rested with all three of the Volturi leaders, tied by Renata's gift and a healthy fear for Caius' brutal sense of justice. The idea that Edward might have knowledge of her private arrangement with Aro filled Jane with fear.

As Alec's gifts fell upon them without effect his gaze widened visibly with shock, plainly revealing his power to be just as ineffectual as his sister's to the vampires around Edward.

Edward spoke directly to Jane:"You lied to us before and you're doing it again. You didn't care that Bella knew of us when she was human or that one of our kind has broken the law for years, drawing human attention. You certainly don't care that we're innocent. What you _do_ care about is that Marcus and Caius don't know what you're doing, and that it's only on Aro's orders that you're here. Have you told that to your companions?"

Demetri's gaze shot to Jane, as did those of Felix and her brother. They all wondered how Edward could make such blatant accusations, especially since Jane was not immediately responding.

_My God,_ Jane thought. _How does he know this? Can he . . .?_ She considered Aro's abilities. _But he's not touching me!_

She was not alone in her speculations. Alec's voice was a shocked whisper as he leaned over to whisper, "Sister, can he—"

"Hear your thoughts? Yes, he can." Carlisle confirmed, with just a hint of smugness in his tone. "All of you at once. _Without_ touching you."

Jane's shocked eyes focused on Edward. He couldn't resist letting an arrogant smirk curve up one side of his mouth. It might be a short-lived moment, but he'd never enjoyed revealing his gift more.

Demetri shuddered visibly. He abhorred Aro's gift, along with his touch. But he feared Marcus and his brutal adhesion to the law more. _Is what he's saying true? If Marcus finds out someone was allowed to run wild and he thinks we had something to do with it— _

_If Edward is right, and Aro alone was behind this, Caius will kill us for treason!_ Felix's mind trembled with imagining just how.

_She kept this from me?_ Alec was in shock, staring at his sister as he tried to process what he saw as a monstrous betrayal.

She _had_ betrayed him, for all intents and purposes, Edward realized. Her loyalty to Aro was above all else, even to her sibling.

Edward suddenly heard Charlie's thoughts more loudly than anyone else's and realized it was because they'd been magnified yet again by the minds in front of him. Once more, without the knowledge he was doing so silently, Charlie had projected his thoughts like words into Jane and the other Volturi's minds. _It sure would suck for you if Aro read Edward's mind. No secrets are safe then. _

Although there was no time to examine this further, Edward was now convinced that Charlie's daughter wasn't the only one of the Swans with a gift. He listened as the weight of Charlie's words settled over the guard, further throwing their minds into turmoil.

"You need to leave, and you won't be taking any of us," Edward said to all of them, and then pointedly just to Jane. "You've lied a great deal to a great many people. You might want to begin untangling some of that web and quelling the possible rebellion in your ranks."

Jane was not a shrinking coward, though. If anything, she was making new plans in the face of her current defeat. She was devastated that she hadn't secured Murray for Aro but she thought of what a prize Edward would be instead. She snarled openly at him. "Your family made your bargain with us, Edward Cullen. You will keep it. There is no retracting your word with the Volturi."

"It was a bargain made under duress and false pretenses. It has no value." He was sure her front was just that—a brave face. "And _none _of us will be accompanying you," he added pointedly.

Demetri and Felix exchanged a look. They were deeply shaken by what Jane had done under Aro's command. Her disloyalty to her brother and to them was quickly dismantling their desire to have anything to do with their initial mission.

"You would prefer the weight of the whole guard be brought down upon you?" Jane challenged, still unaware of the turmoil in the minds of the other guard members. "There will be no mercy—no easy death. We will kill you all slowly, to make sure no one ever challenges our authority again!"

"Perhaps we _should_ go with you," Alice said in a saccharine-sweet voice. She smiled shrewdly at Jane. Flashes of the future were running through her mind like a disjointed film, and all of them were new visions. Encouraging ones. "We'd love the opportunity to tell everyone everything. There will be no secrets about what you and Aro have done." She paused to linger over an image of the chaos such a disclosure in the throne room would produce, the fighting that would erupt in the guard, given the three leaders' varying reactions, and her smile grew wider. "We look forward to it, in fact."

Jane looked like she was ready to explode.

Behind Irina, Grant hissed, his newborn instincts loosed by what he sensed was impending victory.

_Can it! _Charlie thought in silent frustration. Though Edward knew he'd aimed that squarely at Grant and Irina, the others had heard it as well. In the tenseness of the moment, he couldn't tell if they realized Charlie hadn't spoken but there was definitely agreement with his sentiment.

Irina tightened her grip on Grant's arm, and Jasper flung his gift at the newborn, attempting to calm him. Unlike Alec and Jane's assaults, Jasper's power worked, and the young vampire's body relaxed visibly. Edward made note of this, wondering just how sheltered they were under this blanket of protection his wife seemed to provide. Jasper and Alice's gifts were working and, thankfully, he could still hear thoughts.

Charlie returned his gaze to the quartet in front of them. "You said they were law keepers," he murmured to Tanya. His nerves and anxiety were only barely contained, a storm of thoughts brewing under the seemingly calm words, but he was miraculously still controlled in his stance.

Tanya shook her head slightly, the gesture imploring silence.

Charlie shook his head, too. He was thinking how the Voturi were a law unto themselves, his disgust undisguised.

"You come with us, or the full guard returns to claim you," Jane said, pointing to Alice and Jasper. Her words sounded commanding, but her thoughts revealed her increasing fear of what would come to pass if they actually did go to Volterra with her. She could see no way to save either face or her life in returning to Aro without them. She knew that if it came to a fight with Marcus and Caius, Aro would sacrifice her to save himself. In her desperation, she chose to up the ante by pointing at Edward. "And you as well."

"No!" Bella said. Instinctively, she threw out a hand in Jane's direction and, just like in the battle with Victoria, the four Volturi flew backwards, flattened to the ground. "You won't take him! You can't have any of us," Bella said fiercely as the guard members struggled to their feet, "Leave us alone!"

Edward expected the trees around them to begin to crack and fall, but her gift seemed to be concentrated only on the four in front of them. He didn't move, not wanting to be unwittingly subject to her power himself.

Their own group watched as the guard members got to their feet and all their eyes turned to Bella. Their thoughts were muted with shock, even Jane's. Not only had their controlling talents been stymied, but now it was clear that the Cullens had a powerfully gifted newborn on their side. They were in the unusual position of having to defend themselves, rather than be on the offensive. Edward heard them slowly coming back to their senses, Felix and Demetri trying to decide if a physical attack was even possible against Bella's gift, and Alec wanting only to return to Volterra to regroup. Jane, running out of options, entertained all those thoughts briefly before remembering her mission and her position.

And while he desperately wanted the Volturi gone and out of their lives, Edward knew it was not so simple. He focused on the thoughts of his father and Eleazar as he struggled for ideas. It served all their interests to send Jane back with a solution that protected her and Aro from the others' vengeance, for such outrage could only boomerang back to them if set loose. "Aro will value his secret being kept. We'll keep it, and so will all of you. He'll see in your thoughts why Jasper and Alice would be best left here."

"I cannot—will not return empty-handed!" Jane practically screamed at them.

"Given what Edward has just explained to you, there is no reason for you _not_ to return to Aro 'empty-handed', as you put it," Carlisle said evenly. "My friends Marcus and Caius don't know that Jasper and Alice were promised to your service, so you can tell all three leaders that our destroying Victoria and her newborn army is a sign of our good will towards the Volturi. We won't reveal Aro's perfidy to them, and you won't reveal to anyone but Aro what happened here. But that is only possible if you do not take any of my family with you."

They all watched as Jane digested Carlisle's suggestion, no one moving in this tense standoff. Edward listened as Jane ran different schemes through her head, each one culminating in the wrong outcome for her. If she took Jasper and Alice, she knew Alice would be more valuable to Aro than herself and that made Jane expendable if Aro needed a scapegoat. For less than a moment, she contemplated trying to collect Bella, but she quickly realized that just the four of them wouldn't be able to overcome the power she had shown. And when Edward growled at the thought of Jane going after his mate, she was reminded that taking Edward would make Aro privy to everything that had been said or done today—and in the past—by any one of the guard. Her incompetence and failure would be on full display.

"Bella?" Carlisle asked as they waited for Jane. He didn't like that it had come to a show of physical force and now he felt they needed to de-escalate things to nudge the guard toward a graceful out.

Still crouched defensively, Bella straightened up when Carlisle spoke her name. Her posture was stiff, but she accepted Edward's offered hand. Her gift—gifts, he amended—had tipped things in their favour, but he imagined the responsibility of wielding them must be wearing on her. He drew her to him with an arm around her waist, no longer caring what Jane or any of the guard thought.

And seeing this, like a damn child, Jane tried again to bring the gift of torture to at least one more Cullen. She took a menacing step forward, but before she could even focus on anyone, Bella had silently activated her gift once more, not even stepping away from Edward to do it. He felt nothing more than an odd ripple of sensation flow through him as she threw her hand toward the guard. The four Volturi hit the ground for a second time.

"Enough." Edward hissed, watching Jane and her cohorts clamber to their feet, even more slowly than the last time, as he held Bella to his side. "You're lucky to leave alive as it is. _Go._"

He wished it could be gratifying, or reassuring, or relieving, watching the four grey-clad figures turn and walk, then run out of his sight, but it was still with terror for all that could have been that he turned to his wife and yanked her into his embrace, burying his face into her neck.

"Will it work?" Bella asked, her voice muffled in his shirt as she clung to him. "Are we safe?"

It was only with Alice's gift that he could see that they were. He could barely believe it himself. Fate had snatched at his happiness so many times, that he had to replay what Alice saw over and over again in his mind before he could even say the words he'd wanted to utter and believe for so long: "We're safe."

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	61. Cracking Eggs

A/N for 2020-07-24: My sincerest of thanks to Eeyorefan12 for nudging this chapter out of the nest and helping it fly.

On another note: if any of you would like to meet yours truly via Zoom, you can do on September 5, 2020 at 8 PM Central time (North America). I'm participating in this series of Zoom 'meet-your-favourite-fandom-author' program to help raise funds for fandom writer Carey Anne Williams, who has been suffering with and recovering from Covid-19 for several months now. How do you join the Zoom call? Make at least a $5 donation to Carey's go-fund-me page and then email Authors4carey AT gmail DOT com. You can find links and information in my FaceBook group: FlamingMaple's Stories.

Happy reading!

Erin

* * *

As with the first three eggs Bella had tried to crack, this one exploded, but with slightly less force. She shook the goop from her hand into the sink, then rinsed off her hand.

"You're getting better," Charlie mused from where he sat nearby. His habitual cup of hot water sat in front of him.

"Yep," Bella agreed. She was. She drummed her fingers on her hip, recalling the precise force with which she'd made the last egg explode and the one prior to that. She determined to make the next one crack as it should. The Denali's kitchen counter was spread with the ingredients she needed to make pancakes, not that she was any closer to making pancakes, much less seeing her children. While there wasn't anyone around for whom she could cook, doing so was a practical exercise in gaining control, as well as a refresher in human skills that would otherwise fade with human memories. Practical or otherwise, it wasn't going very well, though. Bella sighed, momentarily resting her hands on the granite surface. It felt warm to her touch, which was still a bit of a shock. Of course, having Edward feel warm to her touch was still a shock only a fortnight into her new life. Thinking of his hands, she let her mental gaze wander up his arms to his shoulders. How she loved to bring her new and exceptionally effective hands up and over his shoulders like a wave, sliding them down his back to—

"Maybe try the knock-knock method."

"What?" Bella blinked, abruptly recalled to the present, to her mound of cracked shells and her father's somewhat amused expression.

Charlie put his gaze back on his mug of hot water. "It's the kid's method. Tap it three times on the counter, in the middle." He demonstrated with his hand without looking. "That's how my mom taught me."

That his mother had taught him anything kitchen-related was startling enough, but that he remembered it—Bella quirked an eyebrow. Charlie seemed to recall, with far greater ease, a great deal more than Bella did of her human life. She wondered if his age at his transformation had something to do with it.

Holding in her sigh, she nodded. Charlie seemed to be doing a lot more things better than she was.

_Focus_, she told herself, looking at next ovid-shaped victim in the paper carton.

"You can do this." Muttering was still a habit from which she had to break herself. She could hear Emmett snickering on his way out the door to the garage. "I can always practise by throwing them at you, Em," she called out. There were more snickers.

Egg nestled in her hand, she tapped it lightly on the granite surface, then again, and then once more, hearing the hoped-for sound. Bella froze with anticipation, not wanting to spoil her possible success with any kind of eagerness.

"Now just kinda get your finger tips in there." Charlie mimed the action.

Instinctively holding her breath, Bella did as he instructed. "It worked!" She grinned at her egg, yolk intact in the mixing bowl, its translucent white haloing it.

"Good job." Charlie lifted the cup in salute.

"Thank you, Dad." She meant it. She needed all the support she could get. Determined to see her children again, and soon, she was learning to curtail her many wandering thoughts and instincts. Her mind was so capacious, it took herculean effort at times to focus on a single task. Pausing before she tried again, Bella repeated the steps she'd taken in her mind, again calibrating the precise force required to accomplish this simple yet intricate act.

When the second yolk joined its partner in the bowl, Bella stared at the two eyes they made. Without looking, she grasped a third egg, trusting herself to instinct, tapping the shell and—watching it explode all over her apron.

Charlie said nothing. When she glanced at him, he appeared to be staring out the window. Bella watched with him, catching a flicker of movement in the distance. Emmett and Jasper were putting up Christmas lights—in November. Although Thanksgiving had just passed and Bella supposed it was close enough to not really matter that it was early, it wasn't because her brothers-in-law were attempting to bring any holiday cheer. No, they'd made a bet on which of them could produce the best display. She shook her head. It was silly. Watching Charlie though, she wondered if there was something more to their juvenile antics.

Gathering the threads of her attention back together again, Bella attempted cracking another egg, again successful. Again, something of a surprise. Yet, if she could crack eggs, she was a step closer to being able to touch her children. She thought of Maddie's fragile little body, determined to acquire the delicate control required to be near her young family once again.

Upstairs, Edward was making phone calls, some to Carlisle, others to various contacts, clearing the way for a smooth return home for Bella, and for Charlie, should he wish it. The Denalis had gone hunting. As the most recently made newborns, Bella and Charlie had a kinship for human ritual that still hadn't quite faded and with which the Cullens had encouraged them to continue. They gathered in the kitchen more often than the others, Charlie for a cup of hot water over which to stew, Bella to learn the control required for reintegrating herself into the human world.

"Have you thought about the Cullens' offer at all?" Bella bit her lip, hoping.

"I have."

His tone alone told Bella that she was not to have the answer she'd wanted.

"I'm sure they could pull off my resurrection without a hitch, but . . . I just can't see the advantage, honey." His fingers pinged quietly as they tapped the cup.

God, he was so good with not breaking things and with retaining some human mannerisms. It made her envious.

"By the time I learn enough control . . ." He shrugged. "I'd be old enough to probably need to be dead. I couldn't be part of the kids' lives."

"That's not true." She thought of the Cullens' stories along with those of the Denalis, each of which had been offered in some perfectly natural context over the last two weeks. They'd all managed enough control within a few years to at least be able to walk amongst humans.

"It could be phone calls for now, Dad. Video calls, too, if you're up for contact lenses. And you wouldn't need those for long, Alice says."

"Yep. Phone calls to a grandpa they might not ever see in person, supposedly a man who lost his memory and was found wandering in the wilderness. More likely to draw questions than prevent them."

Wasn't _that_ something that they all wanted to avoid. They both shuddered a little, recalling the Volturi's 'visit'. No, they didn't want to draw attention to themselves.

"I think it's safer if I'm dead, Bella. The risks—just from work friends alone wanting to see me, or to investigate the story . . ." He shook his head.

She knew the love in the answer. Even so, she didn't agree with it.

"I don't think that's at all insurmountable, Dad."

"They'll still have Carlisle and Esme. They won't lack for love from their grandparents. And you'll still have me, whether you want me or not." He chuckled. "Apparently forever."

She smiled. There was no loss for her there. This brought her to thoughts of the other things they'd gained through this new life.

"You can still talk to Leah and Seth. And, maybe . . . Billy." It was something.

"Maybe." This was more complex. That he was now the same type of creature that had robbed Billy of his son, and Charlie himself of the woman he'd loved, was not lost on him. He hadn't said much about this, but the little he had spoke volumes. While he wasn't suicidal anymore, his new state was far from without profoundly conflicted feelings. Jasper stayed close by Charlie much of the time. Bella did not wonder why.

She tried a different tack. "And Tanya seems . . . nice."

Charlie's face looked like it would be blushing if it were possible.

Bella hadn't meant to embarrass him, and certainly hadn't meant to allude to the . . . activities in which her father and Tanya had engaged. Some human taboos remained etched in her consciousness, and discussions of her father's sex life fell squarely into taboo territory.

"It's not . . . it's not like with Sue, honey. Tanya's a good friend."

_A good friend my ass_, Bella thought. _Friend with benefits more like._ "Oh, okay." She kept her eyes on the eggs, picking up the whisk and ever-so-gently beginning to mix them. There seemed to be an unnatural curve to the whisk-handle. _Crud. _She put down the bowl and whisk, not wanting to risk more damage. _One thing at a time. _"What will you do, then?"

Charlie twirled the liquid around in his cup. "I thought I might build a boat."

Bella smiled to herself, peering at the recipe she'd written down. Picking up the jug of milk, she poured it into the eggs and then added the oil. The pyrex did not crack. Success! Putting the fragile container down, she let her thoughts turn back to Charlie with another grin. Of course he would build a boat.

"Grant's got a pretty nice woodshop set up out back. He said I could use it if I wanted."

Bella thought that was rather nice of Grant, all things considered. Although Charlie had apologized to him for his snappish behaviour, she felt it was big of her former colleague to be so kind. It was heartening, too. It meant another friendship, and another link to this new life.

But a boat. Her eyebrows nudged together. They were _miles_ inland. Not that this would stop Charlie. He'd find a way to get a boat to the nearest body of water.

"Will it be a fishing boat?"

Edward had given Charlie the bad news about fishing. He'd taken it remarkably well.

"Nah, just a boat. There's a lot of peace to be found sitting on the water."

There was, Bella mused, especially for Charlie.

"That's too bad." She spoke quietly, hands pressed safely onto the countertop again. Her hands, she had discovered, could do a great deal of damage all by themselves, her 'gift' notwithstanding. She'd already apologized to Carmen multiple times for the antique vase that had fallen victim to one of her careless gestures.

Charlie frowned. "Why is it too bad?"

"Well, I mean . . . who's going to teach the kids how to fish?"

Charlie snorted. "You _hated_ fishing as a kid. Even if we were both human, you'd never have pushed me to take the kids fishing."

Bella fixed him with a look. "Mer's always talking about how you promised to take her fishing with the rod you gave her for her birthday."

"Mer is always talking about princess dresses."

Fair point.

"A girl can have varied interests."

Charlie stood with an ease and grace that Bella envied. The chair slid back uninjured for his relatively abrupt movement. "It'd be years, Bells. Years before I could even possibly be near them. And years are like a lifetime to a kid."

"Like a year without seeing your dad?" She spoke softly. She didn't like prodding at this tender spot in their relationship.

She watched his face crinkle at the edges. "That was—I didn't—"

"I know." Her stomach squirmed with guilt. "I understand why you couldn't see me that often. I get it. I just don't get why you're so eager to let it happen again with your grandchildren when you don't have to."

Carrying his cup, Charlie moved to the sink, setting it inside and washing it out. After he dried it and returned it to the cupboard, he leaned back against the counter, folding his arms and then unfolding them. He looked nervous. "I can't ever risk hurting them, Bella. I'm sure Edward's told you . . . "

"He's told me." Her voice was a low whisper.

Charlie shook his head. "I love you, and I love them. I can't—"

"I would never let you hurt them." She met his gaze, her red-eyed gaze unflinching in the face of his.

"They could resent me for not seeing them. They won't know—"

"They could have you in their lives. They could have a chance to _know _you, to _love_ you."

Charlie turned away, looking out the window. Jasper was responsible for decorating the wing of the building visible to them now. His work so far was impressive. Bella recalled, with the now-familiar human murkiness, her past Christmases as a parent, an adult, a teenager and a child. Foremost in her mind were the small moments forged with the people she'd loved. She wanted that for Charlie—and for her children.

"A chance," Charlie said.

"It's all I'm asking," she said.

She watched his jaw work and his chest expand as he took an unnecessary breath. The afternoon sunlight had fully faded from the window when he spoke again. "I'll try."

"Thank you." She smiled, letting her eyes close for a moment of gratitude. Her mind conjured several possible future scenes with Charlie and the children, all of which involved the giving of thanks. "Thank you," she said again.

Charlie nodded, folding his arms back over his chest again. Then he chuckled. "Maybe you can explain my continued absence because I've gone cuckoo and run off somewhere to make a living building boats."

She smiled. If he was planning, this was a good sign. She looked at his hands, which could now be so certain around a fragile thing as a cup. She recalled the several times he and Billy had muttered what seemed like incantations over the motor of Harry Clearwater's boat, fiddling with its mechanical bits. Charlie would be good with his hands. He would enjoy making rather than destroying things.

She was certain he could enjoy his grandchildren, too, given time and the right circumstances. Not yet, but someday.

Pulling a wooden spoon from the canister beside the cooktop, Bella began mixing together the dry and wet ingredients for her pancakes, one step closer making food, one step closer to returning to her children.

Her comfortable silence together with her father resumed, Bella began carefully spooning batter onto the griddle, thinking about how they were making peace with this eternity together.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


	62. Celebrations

Beta's note for 2020-08-09 from Eeyorefan12: I want to thank Erin for asking me to work on _Metaphor_ with her. It would be hard to describe what a satisfying experience this was but suffice it to say, her writing talent, her willingness to accept other points of view, and her patience with my perfectionistic tendencies (which we share) make working with her a joy. Thank you, also, to the readers who have stuck with this story and especially to those who have reviewed it. These characters have become quite special to me and it's going to be difficult to let them go. (We may or may not be hammering out a custody agreement for Josh as I write this.)

And a final note from the author: Here we are, at the end. I'm really not sure how to adequately express my thanks to Eeyorefan12 for her work on this story. She has been so much more than a beta. She has helped plot, correct and revise this story, and been a massive cheerleader when I fell into the regular writerly pit of despair. She's kept me on course with Edward, because my word, she knows that man so much better than me and possibly Ms. Meyer (sorry, Stephanie!).

It's so stupidly bittersweet, bringing this story to an end. Eeyorefan12 and I have been working on this since February, 2019. They'll be more stories, but saying goodbye to these characters is a bit like saying farewell to family.

But enough of us gushing. On to the story for one final time.

FlamingMaple & Eeyorefan12

* * *

"There you go," Bella said softly, tucking in the diaper around Maddie's hips, fastening the tiny velcro tabs. The entire focus of her new mind was on the task in front of her. Josh's and Meredith's voices chirped in the periphery of her attention, and she stopped moving her fingers, silently coaching herself to attend only to what was in front of her. Her senses again wholly on her baby, she slipped one of her daughter's squirming legs into the foot of the sleeper and then the other, sliding her fingers under her back as she coaxed the small left arm into the sleeve and then the right into the other. Maddie mewled, the sound promising to become more dire very quickly. Still, Bella did not rush. "I know," she whispered with a smile. "You certainly made room for more food, didn't you?" Her gaze took in the violently soiled diaper and sleeper occupying the diaper pail. _Focus_. It was a warning to herself. Making her eyes find Maddie's, Bella regarded the brilliant blue irises set around unusually agile pupils. At five weeks, Maddie was very, very alert for a newborn.

"Okay," Bella said to herself, focused again. With the tip of her index finger between the zipper and the baby's soft skin, Bella pulled the tab slowly upwards, gauging the pressure she was exerting laterally and horizontally. The zipper reached the top and she stilled herself. "Are we ready to go see Daddy for a bottle?"

Maddie mewled again in answer, hands fisting and feet trying to kick off her sleeper, little toes instead brushing Bella's midsection.

With the lightest pressure possible, Bella wedged her fingers under Maddie's back and neck, gathering the semi-floppy limbs into her arms. When the baby was settled securely, Bella released her lip from the grip of her teeth, letting herself relax a little. To hold this tiny, trusting body was a reward worth relishing. Though she could recall doing so with Josh and Meredith, the quality of the memories paled to the ones she formed now.

As with all things related to her children, Bella moved very, very slowly. The purpose was two-fold: one, it ensured her human family's physical safety, and two, it preserved the myth of her illness.

Which is a protection in and of itself, she reminded herself. Though they had most effectively deflected the Volturi's attention, they were determined not to garner it again through revealing what they were to the children or any of their few human acquaintances.

Before Josh and Meredith had returned with Rose and Esme, Bella and Edward had agreed that Josh would need to learn to speak to be heard. It was simply too dangerous for him to rely solely on Edward's gift, and he was young enough that the transition could be accomplished fairly easily. Their time apart had already set the stage. It had helped that Carlisle had begun using an electronic picture communication system on the iPad to help Josh express himself.

With these thoughts swirling in her head, Bella knew to pause. When she brought her attention back to herself and Maddie, she began walking down the hall, turning carefully to begin her slow steps down to the main floor.

"I heard that little cry," Rose called, smiling at Bella from the bottom of the stairs. "Are you alright to come down?"

"Yes," Bella said. She would have been insulted by the question not so long ago. Now it was a serious inquiry. But yes, she could walk down the stairs carrying her baby. She paused at the top, checking her focus one more time.

Safely in the Cullens' large living room, Bella moved to the chair by the corner. The shades were drawn against any stray sunlight that might enter the house, and setting Maddie down on the playmat for a moment, Bella gently tugged the closest shade down all the way.

In the unguarded moment, Rose snatched Maddie up into her arms.

Bella growled.

Rose cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Sorry," Bella said.

"You don't need to apologize to me. Your husband on the other hand—"

It was a small groan now that left Bella's lips.

"That's two today," Edward called from the kitchen.

When she hit three, it was her sign to head outside—preferably to hunt.

Edward zipped into the living room with a bottle. "Hello, Miss Mighty Productions," he cooed, taking Maddie from Rosalie. "Are you hungry?"

"I really would like to feed her," Bella said. She sat in the chair, doing her best to look perfectly in control. She _was_ perfectly in control, she reminded herself, certainly in regards to any vampiric temptations.

"Mm-hmm," Edward said, blowing a raspberry onto Maddie's tummy. She breathed out something like a giggle as he pivoted on his foot to face Bella.

_Show off_, Bella grumbled to herself, sighing mentally. She could move just as gracefully, just not while taking care of her children.

Edward's head tilted, and he met Bella's gaze head-on with a soft smile.

_Oh, that isn't fair_. Even the words felt breathless in her mind. The things he could do to her, just with a look.

"Ready?" His voice was all honey and reminders of things from the night before and promises of the night to come—

Glancing at her watch, Rose discreetly cleared her throat. "Your guests should be here pretty soon."

Edward had Maddie tucked into the crook of one arm as he set down the bottle, reaching out his hand to cup Bella's cheek. "This is a lot. Everyone will understand that a baby shower so soon after you've been "ill" is a big undertaking."

It was impulse to assure him that she was fine. Again, for the umpteenth time, she held the moment in her mind, spreading her awareness over her body like a wave, sending it out in a liquid movement and then retracting it. "I'm still good." She was.

Edward nodded and at the same time, transferred his hold of the baby, stretching his arms out to place her into Bella's. She did not want to be envious and she did not want to be jealous, but she was. He could so easily do two things at once with their children.

_All in good time_, she told herself.

The long driveway down to the house was surfaced with gravel, and the crunch of an approaching vehicle caught Bella's attention.

"Any guesses as to who?" Rose asked Edward.

He shook his head.

Bella's hearing took in the distant sounds and closer movements, but she kept her eyes on the baby. It was easiest when her visual stimulation was low.

"You'll stay?" Edward asked Rose, who nodded, sitting down beside Bella. He turned to move to the door.

_Focus_, Bella told herself. Yet, for all her inexhaustible newborn strength, she knew her mind was wearying. "Can you take her?" she asked Rosalie. There was no room for mistakes where her children were concerned.

"Sure," Rose said, quickly and efficiently taking Maddie into her own arms.

Operating from muscle memory, Bella grabbed the oxygen mask from beside the chair, slipping it over her face. The visible tubing ran to a canister beside her, but another length of well-hidden hosing ran outside to gather fresh air. Although it was unlikely that any of their human guests would be bleeding in her presence, Bella thought the precaution wise, all things considered. She smoothed a blanket out over her legs and glanced at her reflection in the window across the room. She looked as much an invalid as any human would expect—pale, eyes darkened by contacts, makeup applied to accentuate the shadows under her eyes.

The first guest was Randy, her department head from work.

Bella listened to Edward's gentle greeting as he directed Randy to the bathroom where she could wash her hands.

She chuckled a little. She and Matt had been fastidious with Meredith in the first months, but by the time Joshua arrived, the hypervigilant hygiene had slipped by about a mile. Edward was very much a first-time parent in some ways.

Below the hearing of any humans, Edward murmured, "I hear you laughing. It's important for Maddie."

"Preaching to the choir," she replied, just as quietly. "You're a great dad."

"Hey, Bella," Randy said, waving from a distance. All the guests had been told that Bella couldn't have any physical contact outside her household. It was believable enough, given a vague but extended illness.

Bella waved back, smiling broadly.

As with all humans, there was a momentary sort of stunned blinking. Randy recovered quickly, though. "It's so good to see you. Oh, and your baby." She looked over enviously at Rose, who made no move to give Maddie up.

Randy chose the chair closest to Bella and began catching her up on the school news.

"Ah, and before I forget, there's something from one of your students, too." While Randy had placed her gift on the dining table, she pulled a small envelope from her purse. "Chelsea, I think? She asked me to make sure I gave this to you."

"Oh?" Bella said, her eyes darting briefly to Edward.

"She's a bit odd, that one. She was really quite insistent I give this to you, and no one else. I hope it isn't anything . . . inappropriate. She, well—poor girl."

"Thank you," Bella said, taking the envelope carefully. It was obvious that Randy wanted her to open it. Who wouldn't be curious, Bella supposed. But she wanted to protect Chelsea from any further ignominy. The poor child had suffered enough on Bella's behalf. "I'll make sure to send her a note of thanks, later."

"Welcome," Esme said to Randy, coming into the room. "Can I get you something to drink? I've got a whole slew of things in the kitchen, if you'd like to come and choose?"

With Randy suitably distracted, Bella carefully slid a finger into the envelope, eyes scanning over the card and replacing it before her colleague could return. The contents made her groan quietly.

"What does it say?" Edward asked softly.

"She's amazed I'm alive. She thought Victoria was the devil incarnate, and no one believes her. Her parents have her in therapy."

Bella rubbed her forehead worriedly. This was not okay. This was so not okay—

"She's smart," Edward said, coming to kneel beside her, his fingers squeezing hers. "She's going to be okay, and if we need to nudge the narrative, there are ways."

"How?" Bella hissed. Though they were murky, her memories of the brutal disbelief and psychosis treatment were not anything she would wish on anyone, especially not someone who had suffered on her behalf.

"Free psychiatric counselling with the right practitioner can be quite remarkable," Rose said, examining one of her nails. "We've done that before—nothing like you experienced, of course, but we could have someone work with her who is . . . understanding of the unique circumstances."

Bella's eyes widened, taking this in. There were so many questions she had about this.

"Later," Edward promised. "But it'll be okay. I promise." Both his tone and his expression were reassuring and she knew she could trust him.

"Okay."

More guests were rumbling their way down the drive.

Edward paused, clearly listening. "Your—Matt's friends Eric and Jan are here."

"That's a rather telling introduction."

He quirked an eyebrow, saying no more. She suspected he was being charitable in his characterization, sparing Bella what she knew might be uncharitable thoughts on their—or just Jan's—part.

Moving at a human pace, Edward got to the door as their guests did, using his least intimidating closed-mouth smile to greet them.

At the same time, Josh, as if summoned, thumped up the stairs from the basement and into the living room. He and Meredith had been playing with Emmett, but Bella knew her son would have been drawn by the voices of unfamiliar people. His iPad in hand, he scrunched his bare toes on the floor, eyeing Edward.

"Josh, can you come say hi to our friends?"

Josh nodded enthusiastically, then stuck his gaze onto the iPad, pressing on the screen. An automatic voice spoke for him. "Hello." After a pause. "Friends."

"Hi Josh," Jan said. Her smile appeared manufactured, her voice high and artificially sweet. It was the sort of voice an adult with little experience with children used.

"iPad," Josh replied, pointing to his device, clad in thick pink foam rubber. He'd chosen the case himself. Then he skipped to the kitchen, where the mechanical voice produced a loud, "I want a", and then a few seconds later, "cookie."

"That's pretty cool," Eric commented to Edward.

Edward said nothing and just smiled as he nodded in acknowledgement.

As Jan and Eric approached Bella, their progress was interrupted by Rose, who stood to let them have a good look at the baby.

Bella was glad for the pretense of her illness, because most of her attention was sucked up by the rapid pattering that was coming from Jan's . . . midsection. Her gaze flicked to Edward as he came to sit on the arm of her chair.

"I don't think he knows yet," he murmured in a low voice.

The wave of nostalgia that washed over Bella was very unexpected. Her hand fluttered to her stomach. Even with a baby in her arms much of the time, it was a missing piece almost, that visceral physical connection. Something like envy made her give her head a shake.

"Oh, she's beautiful." Jan's smile was now much more genuine as she looked down at Maddie.

"Yes, she is." Edward's face held as much pride as if he'd fathered her himself. To Bella, his fatherhood was so much more because he'd chosen it.

"She looks so much like Matt." Eric smiled at Maddie, brushing his hand over her little feet.

Bella was sure she wouldn't have given that comment more than a passing thought if she were still human. Various studies over the years had concluded that newborns often resembled their fathers more closely, for the first year, at least. But she wondered how she would have reacted, in her human form, to the look that Eric gave to Jan. The one that said I-told-you-so. Bella blinked rapidly, schooling her face not to reveal more of her surprise or indignation and studiously avoiding looking at Edward. _Had they really thought—?_

Alice's voice cut into the room at vampire-only volume with a small gasp. "Those are the friends who made you cry. And good Lord. I can see why." She stared from the top of the stairs, horrified gaze taking in Jan and Eric's habitual swaths of khaki and pastel. "If that man doesn't have a Martha Stewart fetish—"

"Thank you, Alice," Edward replied just as quietly.

"And they're going to dress their child in _pastels_." Alice's tone was positively morose.

Jan took the chair that Randy had vacated. "How are you feeling these days, Bella?"

"Oh, fine. Getting better each day." This was true, Bella reminded herself. She was.

"It sounds like you had quite the birth experience." Jan looked to Edward. "Did you really deliver her?"

"Well, Bella did the delivering." Edward told her with a hint of a smirk. "I just caught." He mimed snagging a ball.

Jan laughed a little nervously, then turned towards Eric, who had wandered toward the kitchen and was perusing the refreshments. "Wine, Sweetie?" he called. "Something to eat?"

"Um. . . juice or water is fine. Sure. Be right there." She smiled at Bella, standing and moving away.

Bella took a moment to pause with her thoughts, considering with somewhat forced gratitude the many human lives still connected to hers—and those of her family. She reminded herself that she was lucky to have these attachments. They wouldn't be forever, and she would treasure them while she could, some more so than others. While Jan and Eric weren't her close friends, they had been Matt's. She wanted to preserve that tie, because it preserved part of him.

Josh reappeared in the kitchen doorway, this time with a chocolate-smeared face and a squishy cookie in hand. He licked a finger and then pressed it to the iPad.

Bella sighed. This was becoming a bit of a show. She eyed Edward, who lifted his shoulders. The novelty would wear off soon enough. Josh could talk, and when he really wanted to, would produce short and simple sentences. "Man," the computer voice said, then, "Mama," and "People."

"Come see Mama, Josh?" Bella called.

He skipped down the stairs to the sunken living room, before trotting over and bouncing into her lap. Bella watched Edward visibly tense as Josh landed, while Bella's hands caught his body and softened what would otherwise have been a painful and noticeable collison with her hard flesh.

"Josh, you need to be much more careful with Mama," Edward said, his voice surprisingly stern.

So obviously unaccustomed to this tone, Josh turned his head to face Edward, his little features uncertain. Using his voice, he said softly and tentatively, "Sorry, Daddy."

Every vampire in the house stopped, only for a second, but all of them halted in place, these simple words unheard before from these little lips.

Edward remained frozen longer than Bella. He raised his eyes to hers, the question there plain for her to see.

"Yes, he did," she said, her voice reverent and low. Lightly, always so lightly, she cupped her hand against the curve of the tiny back that wiggled on her lap.

Blinking rapidly, Edward knelt beside Bella, locking eyes with his son. "It's. . . alright, Josh," he said, his voice choked with feelings Bella would have struggled to isolate or name. She'd be crying herself if she could.

"Daddy?" Josh repeated, looking at the emotion on Edward's face with confusion.

"That's me." Edward said with a large grin. Then he opened his arms and Josh slid off of Bella's lap and into his embrace.

Josh giggled, probably wondering how he had gone from being in trouble to being held tightly against his father's chest as if he'd never let him go. Gradually, the silence in the room gave way as normal activity picked up again.

"Oh," Edward whispered abruptly, clearly picking up thoughts from someone..

"What?" Bella asked.

Alice harumphed, frowning as she walked into view.

Edward's expression mirrored his sister's. "That is most uncharitable, all things considered."

"What?" Bella asked, feeling more frustrated.

"Leah's almost here." Edward's glance was apologetic, not for the news, but for not sharing it immediately. He was more aware now of things that triggered her newborn frustration.

"Oh." That would explain Alice's reaction. Anything that interfered with her visions was a source of frustration.

Leah was coming, though. This was rather huge. Bella had sent her an invitation, not really expecting her to arrive. After what had happened, and how Bella had . . . well, she'd used Leah, this could be—

"It's brave of her to come." The tone Alice used offered begrudging appreciation.

It was. "Alone?" Bella asked.

Edward nodded, his eyebrows slowly lifting in surprise.

Bella's eyes narrowed. He was keeping something from her. She caught the growl that almost started in her throat, but not before Edward turned to eye her in mild warning.

Smoothing her expression, she watched him walk to the door.

The smell reached Bella as soon as Edward pulled it open, and she understood, with unwelcome olfactory precision, the reason why the Cullens' noses had wrinkled everytime they were in the werewolves' presence. Even with the mask on her face, the scent smothered all others.

"Hey." Leah's eyes danced around the room, too nervous to settle on one person, as Edward stepped back and waved her in. She didn't look at him as she came inside, settling her gaze on Bella as she approached her.

"Hey." Bella felt as nervous as Leah looked. She really hadn't expected her to come. It was one thing to offer an invitation she thought would be declined.

They stared at each other for an awkward moment, the two women and Edward the living room's only occupants. Alice had disappeared back upstairs and the other humans present had gathered in the kitchen, likely because Rosalie had drifted that way with Maddie. That and because there was some spectacular Esme-created food on offer, Bella speculated.

"I'm so sorry," Bella said. "For what I did, tricking you. But . . . I'm kinda not because it, well—" Oh God, what a terrible apology. "Thank you, Leah." She lowered her voice. "Maddie and Chelsea are both okay." She bit her lip. In Chelsea's case, that wasn't entirely true but she hoped it soon would be.

Leah chuckled nervously. "Yeah. I guess that sums it up, huh. It's okay. We're good. I knew what I was doing." Her backwards glance to Edward spoke of her nervousness still.

He came closer. "We were able to destroy Victoria because of your assistance, and Bella is here, without us being at war with the Quileutes. I know that's because of your intervention with the Pack. So. . . thank you."

Leah's shoulders relaxed a little as she sat down on the couch facing Bella. "How's Maddie?"

"She's great." Edward and Bella smiled at each other, their voices having answered simultaneously.

"She's perfectly healthy," Edward added.

Leah nodded.

"I'll go get her," Edward offered, moving away, leaving them alone.

"Thank you," Bella said. "I mean that, and I'm sorry I haven't called before. It's been—"

Leah spoke in a throaty whisper. "Bella, you just got turned into a vampire and you have two other kids and a baby to take care of. I get that I was not the first call." She smiled, pausing and then speaking in a near-whisper. "How's your dad?"

"He's really good. He's uh, thinking of building a boat."

Leah laughed. "Billy'll be happy to hear that."

"I'm sorry he hasn't been up to calling yet. I'll remind him—let him know you want him to. I think he's been . . . well, a bit nervous to."

"He was a dad to me, too." Bella could smell the near-tears in Leah's eyes. "I miss him. We can probably also visit in person, you know, if he's—but I'm getting ahead of myself."

"He'd really like that. I know he would." She did.

Human voices and the sounds of several pairs of feet began moving towards Bella.

"And here she is," Edward said, coming up to Leah. "This is Maddie," he said, holding the baby against his chest and tipping her just enough for Leah to see her face.

"Would you like to hold her?" Bella asked Leah.

"Um . . ." Leah looked at Edward, who, Bella realized, had made no move to relinquish his daughter.

"You can if you want." Bella looked at Edward pointedly. With obvious reluctance and a small sigh others might have missed, he loosened his grip slightly.

"I'd love to." There was something in her voice that spoke of a longing much deeper than a simple desire to hold a baby.

"Here," Edward said, moving closer, transferring Maddie so that as little of him and Leah touched as possible.

"Oh, hello. little one," Leah whispered, smiling widely. She brushed aside some of Maddie's wispy red hair. "Look at you." She chuckled. "She's sure got Matt's hair, doesn't she?" "

Bella was certain such comments didn't bother Edward and she didn't mind them herself but she could practically hear Eric's eyebrows go up each time someone pointed out Maddie's parentage.

Both Eric and Jan had padded back into the living room. Randy remained in the kitchen. She and Esme were talking teaching. Bella smiled a little. Trust Esme to make her guests feel at home and find a connection with each of them.

Near the fireplace, Eric and Jan murmured quietly together at a volume clearly meant to go unheard.

"I hope the baby doesn't have problems, too." Through her eyelashes, Bella watched Jan's gaze drift to Josh, who wandered into and then out of the room.

Eric frowned at his wife, pressing a glass into her hand. "There's nothing wrong with Josh."

Jan took the glass but didn't acquire enough of a grip to hold it, and the tumbler of cranberry juice landed with a tinkling crash on the fireplace lip.

The babble of voices that rose up then almost hid Bella's low and protective growl, but not from Edward, who gave her a dark look.

Shit.

"It's alright," Edward said to Jan, picking up the pieces. "We're quite used to fumbling fingers." Here he turned to Bella again, smiling a little. "Bella will be the first to tell you that she was all butterfingered when she was pregnant. I'm sure you'll find that those first months really do a number on the ligaments."

Bella was all for the deprecatory comments about her human clumsiness if it meant Edward was overlooking her third growl of the day. Although she was still trying to process what she thought she'd just heard him say.

Jan and Eric, whose khaki trousers looked like they'd been splattered with blood, now turned to each other. Jan opened her mouth and then closed it, eyes widening at her spouse. The muscles in her face flexed, but not with excitement. It was like she'd been—and here Bella almost gasped aloud—caught in a lie? No, not that. Bella eyed Jan's face a bit longer. Edward had said Jan knew about her pregnancy, and Eric didn't. Oh my.

"Well," Eric said, bending down again to finish helping Edward clean up the last of the juice. "I guess that was our cue to leave. We don't want to overstay—"

"No, we don't," Jan said, though her face was paling slightly with what appeared to be nervous apprehension. This was in stark contrast to her husband's near glee. "We should go."

"It was lovely to see you." Bella waved from the chair.

After Edward closed the door behind them, Bella whispered, "Did you just—?"

He grinned, walking back to her. "Help spill the beans on some good news?"

"_Is_ it good news?" Bella asked, still sotto voce. She thought of the commentary on Maddie's paternity in a fresh light. "Oh my word, is he—?"

"No comment," Edward's eyes were full of mischief. "But it would appear the jury's still out on that."

Bella stared at her husband. Yes, he was often privy to people's private thoughts, but she also knew him to be scrupulous about keeping their secrets. He must have had strong motivation to do otherwise.

Edward looked back towards the door, through which Eric and Jan had disappeared.. "I just hope for their child's sake that it is 'perfectly normal.'" He made air-quotes around the phrase. "And that he or she looks like Eric."

Aaand, there was the answer to her unasked question.

He leaned over her chair. "But don't you think for a minute that I didn't hear what you just did. Strike three. You're out, Swan."

Her, "Hmm," was throatier this time, bordering on another growl. If he was using her maiden name . . . her toes curled in anticipation.

"You look tired, Sweetheart." Edward's words were loud enough to inform every single remaining human, and half-human, guest of his observation.

Within minutes, the last attendees had set down their drinks and begun to gather their shoes and coats, brief farewells made to all and sundry.

"Let me help you," Edward said, slipping off the oxygen mask and bending down to pick Bella up.

"I can mana—"

"I'll help you." He spoke more firmly than before. She couldn't deny she liked it.

She allowed herself to relax in his arms, her hand pressed to his shirt, fingers gripping his flesh in a way she'd never been able to do as a human. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder. "I love you," she breathed. "So, so much." She slid her hands up to massage his shoulders. His chest buzzed with a purr or growl. She was too focused on him to really pay it much mind.

"Four times today." Edward set her down by the basement door that led to the garden.

That had been _her_?

"Time to hunt?"

Her eyes met his, which twinkled with possibilities, most of them having less to do with hunting and more to do with what usually came after. He curled his warm hand around hers.

She nodded.

Slipping outside, she let the air wash over her, taking in the many scents it offered—promises of snow, smoke and resinous trees. She thought of the privacy of the woods and time alone.

The next growl was definitely hers, lost to the trees as they ran into the forest surrounding the house.

"That's five," Edward whispered, but with a playful grin on his face and a suggestive wink to go with it. "You're being exceptionally naughty today."

Their feet crunched into the few dry leaves on the forest floor as they ran with no precise destination in mind, just the freedom of time and bodies unlimited by mortality stretched out before them. Bella's thoughts returned briefly to Chelsea's predicament, so similar to her own from so many years ago. She, too, would likely be offered the explanation of a metaphor for her trauma, just as Bella had been. As her feet ghosted over the ground, Bella knew that she and her family would make sure it would be a kindness for the young girl, and not an extension of the cruelty she had experienced.

Thoughts of Chelsea faded rapidly as Bella looked to Edward, reaching out a hand for his. He grasped it, lacing their fingers together, gracing her with that inarticulately beautiful smile that could reduce her thoughts to mush. This time, though, she only felt a powerful swell of joy, peace, and gratitude. This was her life now: a loyal, protective family and the fierce love of a mate. This was forever. Despite all of the speculative and misguided suggestions of therapists from so long ago, Edward's love had not drained her life, but restored it, and she knew hers had done the same for him.

No, she decided, her metaphor was damn near perfect.

\- The End -

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Author's Post-Script: A lot of your reviews have asked about future- and out-takes. Yes, I expect there will be a few. If you'd like to read them, please subscribe to the story _A Perfect Metaphor: Outtakes _so that you don't miss any new episodes. Cheers!

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DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.


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